LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
RIVERSIDE 


Short  Histories  of  the  Literatures 
of  the  World 

Edited  by  Edmund  Gosse 


Literatures  of  the  World, 

EDITED  BY  EDMUND  GOSSE. 


ANCIENT  GREEK   LITERATURE. 
By  GILBERT  MURRAY,  M.  A. 

FRENCH   LITERATURE. 

By  EDWARD  DOWDEN,  D.  C.  L.,  LL.  D. 

ENGLISH   LITERATURE. 

By  the  EDITOR.     [Shortly.] 

ITALIAN   LITERATURE. 

By  RICHARD  GARNETT,  C.  B.,  LL.  D.     [Shortly.] 

AMERICAN   LITERATURE. 

SPANISH   LITERATURE. 

By  J.  FITZMAURICE-KELLY. 

JAPANESE   LITERATURE. 

By  WILLIAM  GEORGE  ASTON,  C.  M.  G.,  M.  A. 

MODERN   SCANDINAVIAN   LITERATURE. 
By  Dr.  GEORG  BRANDES. 

SANSKRIT  LITERATURE. 

By  A.  A.  MACDONELL,  M.  A. 

HUNGARIAN   LITERATURE. 
By  Dr.  ZOLTAN  BEOTHY. 

GERMAN  LITERATURE. 

By  Dr.  C.  H.  HERFORD. 

LATIN   LITERATURE. 

By  Dr.  A.  W.  VERRALL. 


D.   APPLETON  AND  COMPANY,   NEW  YORK. 


A    HISTORY    OF 

FRENCH  LITERATURE 


BY 

EDWARD   DOWDEN 

D.  LITT.,  LL.  D.  (Due.),  D.  C.  L.  (Oxow.),  LL.  D.  (EoiN.) 
LL.  D.  (PRINCETON) 

PROFESSOR    OF   ENGLISH    LITERATURE    IN    THE 
UNIVERSITY    OF    DUBLIN 


NEW    YORK 

D.     APPLETON     AND     COMPANY 
1897 


COPYRIGHT,  1897, 
BY  D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY. 


PREFACE 

FRENCH  prose  and  French  poetry  had  interested  me 
during  so  many  years  that  when  Mr.  Gosse  invited  me 
to  write  this  book  I  knew  that  I  was  qualified  in  one 
particular — the  love  of  my  subject.  Qualified  in  know- 
ledge I  was  not,  and  could  not  be.  No  one  can  pretend 
to  know  the  whole  of  a  vast  literature.  He  may  have 
opened  many  books  and  turned  many  pages  ;  he  cannot 
have  penetrated  to  the  soul  of  all  books  from  the  Song 
of  Roland  to  Toute  la  Lyre.  Without  reaching  its  spirit, 
to  read  a  book  is  little  more  than  to  amuse  the  eye  with 
printed  type. 

An  adequate  history  of  a  great  literature  can  be  written 
only  by  collaboration.  Professor  Petit  de  Julleville,  in 
the  excellent  Histoire  de  la  Langue  et  de  la  Litterature 
Franqaise,  at  present  in  process  of  publication,  has  his 
well -instructed  specialist  for  each  chapter.  In  this 
small  volume  I  too,  while  constantly  exercising  my  own 
judgment,  have  had  my  collaborators — the  ablest  and 
most  learned  students  of  French  literature — who  have 
written  each  a  part  of  my  book,  while  somehow  it 
seems  that  I  have  written  the  whole.  My  collaborators 
are  on  my  shelves.  Without  them  I  could  not  have 
accomplished  my  task ;  here  I  give  them  credit  for 
their  assistance.  Some  have  written  general  histories 


vi  PREFACE 

of  French  literature  ;  some  have  written  histories  of 
periods — the  Middle  Ages,  the  sixteenth,  seventeenth, 
eighteenth,  nineteenth  centuries ;  some  have  studied 
special  literary  fields  or  forms — the  novel,  the  drama, 
tragedy,  comedy,  lyrical  poetry,  history,  philosophy ; 
many  have  written  monographs  on  great  authors ; 
many  have  written  short  critical  studies  of  books  or 
groups  of  books.  I  have  accepted  from  each  a  gift. 
But  my  assistants  needed  to  be  controlled  ;  they 
brought  me  twenty  thousand  pages,  and  that  was  too 
much.  Some  were  accurate  in  statement  of  fact,  but 
lacked  ideas  ;  some  had  ideas,  but  disregarded  accuracy 
of  statement ;  some  unjustly  depreciated  the  seventeenth 
century,  some  the  eighteenth.  For  my  purposes  their 
work  had  to  be  rewritten  ;  and  so  it  happens  that  this 
book  is  mine  as  well  as  theirs. 

The  sketch  of  mediaeval  literature  follows  the  arrange- 
ment of  matter  in  the  two  large  volumes  of  M.  Petit 
de  Julleville  and  his  fellow-labourers,  to  whom  and  to 
the  writings  of  M.  Gaston  Paris  I  am  on  almost  every 
page  indebted.  Many  matters  in  dispute  have  here  to 
be  briefly  stated  in  one  way ;  there  is  no  space  for 
discussion.  Provencal  literature  does  not  appear  in  this 
volume.  It  is  omitted  from  the  History  of  M.  Petit  de 
Julleville  and  from  that  of  M.  Lanson.  In  truth,  except 
as  an  influence,  it  forms  no  part  of  literature  in  the 
French  language. 

The  reader  who  desires  guidance  in  bibliography  will 
find  it  at  the  close  of  each  chapter  of  the  History  edited 
by  M.  Petit  de  Julleville,  less  fully  in  the  notes  to 


PREFACE  vii 

M.  Lanson's  History,  and  an  excellent  table  of  critical 
and  biographical  studies  is  appended  to  each  volume 
of  M.  Lintilhac's  Histoire  de  la  Literature  Franc^aise. 
M.  Lintilhac,  however,  omits  many  important  English 
and  German  titles — among  others,  if  I  am  not  mistaken, 
those  of  Birsch-Hirschfeld's  Geschichte  der  Franzosichen 
Litteratur :  die  Zeit  der  Renaissance,  of  Lotheissen's  im- 
portant Geschichte  der  Franzosichen  Litteratur  im  XVII, 
fahrhundert,  and  of  Professor  Knight's  learned  Philo- 
sophy of  History  (1893). 

M.  Lanson's  work  has  been  of  great  service  in 
guiding  me  in  the  arrangement  of  my  subjects,  and  in 
giving  me  courage  to  omit  many  names  of  the  second 
or  third  rank  which  might  be  expected  to  appear  in 
a  history  of  French  literature.  In  a  volume  like  the 
present,  selection  is  important,  and  I  have  erred  more 
by  inclusion  than  by  exclusion.  The  limitation  of  space 
has  made  me  desire  to  say  no  word  that  does  not  tend 
to  bring  out  something  essential  or  characteristic. 

M.  Lanson  has  ventured  to  trace  French  literature  to 
the  present  moment.  I  have  thought  it  wiser  to  close 
my  survey  with  the  decline  of  the  romantic  movement. 
With  the  rise  of  naturalism  a  new  period  opens.  The 
literature  of  recent  years  is  rather  a  subject  for  current 
criticism  than  for  historical  study. 

I  cannot  say  how  often  I  have  been  indebted  to  the 
writings  of  M.  Brunetiere,  M.  Faguet,  M.  Larroumet, 
M.  Paul  Stapfer,  and  other  living  critics ;  to  each  of  the 
volumes  of  Les  Grands  Ecrivains  Franc^ais,  and  to  many 
of  the  volumes  of  the  Classiqucs  Populaires.  M.  Lintilhac's 


viii  PREFACE 

edition  of  Merlet's  Eludes  Littfraires  has  also  often  served 
me.  But  to  name  my  aids  to  study  would  be  to  fill  some 
pages. 

While  not  unmindful  of  historical  and  social  influences, 
I  desire  especially  to  fix  my  reader's  attention  on  great 
individuals,  their  ideas,  their  feelings,  and  their  art.  The 
general  history  of  ideas  should,  in  the  first  instance,  be 
discerned  by  the  student  of  literature  through  his  obser- 
vation of  individual  minds. 

That  errors  must  occur  where  so  many  statements  are 
made,  I  am  aware  from  past  experience;  but  I  have  taken 
no  slight  pains  to  attain  accuracy.  It  must  not  be  hastily 
assumed  that  dates  here  recorded  are  incorrect  because 
they  sometimes  differ  from  those  given  in  other  books. 
For  my  errors  I  must  myself  bear  the  responsibility  ; 
but  by  the  editorial  care  of  Mr.  Gosse,  in  reading  the 
proof-sheets  of  this  book,  the  number  of  such  errors 
has  been  reduced. 

EDWARD  DOWDEN. 

DUBLIN,  June  1897. 


CONTENTS 


BOOK  THE  FIRST  — THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    NARRATIVE    RELIGIOUS    POETRY  —  THE    NATIONAL   EPIC  —  THE 

EPIC   OF   ANTIQUITY — ROMANCES    OF   LOVE   AND    COURTESY    .  3 
II.    LYRICAL   POETRY— FABLES,  AND  RENARD    THE  FOX — FABLIAUX 

— THE    ROMANCE    OF    THE    ROSE 24 

III.  .DIDACTIC    LITERATURE — SERMONS — HISTORY      ....  40 

IV.  .LATEST    MEDIEVAL    POETS — THE    DRAMA 58 


BOOK  THE  SECOND  — THE  SIXTEENTH  CENTURY 

I.    RENAISSANCE   AND    REFORMATION 8 1 

II.    FROM    THE    PLEIADE   TO    MONTAIGNE 96 


BOOK  THE  THIRD  —  THE  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY 

I.  LITERARY  FREEDOM  AND  LITERARY  ORDER      .        .        .        -131 
II.  THE  FRENCH  ACADEMY — PHILOSOPHY  (DESCARTES) — RELIGION 

(PASCAL) 147 

III.  THE  DRAMA  (MONTCHRESTIEN  TO  CORNEILLE)         .        .        .     l6o 

IV.  SOCIETY  AND  PUBLIC  LIFE  IN  LETTERS 173 

V.  BOILEAU  AND  LA  FONTAINE 183 

VI.  COMEDY  AND  TRAGEDY — MOLIERE — RACINE     ....     196 

VII.  BOSSUET  AND  THE  PREACHERS — FENELON 2ig 

VIII.  TRANSITION  TO  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY    ....    235 


x  CONTENTS 

BOOK  THE  FOURTH  — THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.   MEMOIRS  AND  HISTORY— POETRY — THE  THEATRE — THE  NOVEL  251 

II.   MONTESQUIEU — VAUVENARGUES — VOLTAIRE        ....  273 

III.  DIDEROT    AND    THE    ENCYCLOPAEDIA — PHILOSOPHERS,     ECONO- 

MISTS,  CRITICS — BUFFON 294 

IV.  ROUSSEAU — BEAUMARCHAIS — BERNARD! N     DE    SAINT-PIERRE — 

ANDRE  CHENIER 3!! 

BOOK  THE  FIFTH—  1789-1850 

I.   THE    REVOLUTION    AND    THE    EMPIRE — MADAME    DE    STAEL — 

CHATEAUBRIAND 335 

II.   THE  CONFLICT  OF  IDEAS 354 

III.  POETRY   OF   THE    ROMANTIC   SCHOOL 363 

IV.  THE   NOVEL 396 

V.   HISTORY — LITERARY   CRITICISM 4!  I 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 429 

INDEX 437 


BOOK    THE    FIRST 

THE   MIDDLE  AGES 


THE  MIDDLE  AGES 


CHAPTER  I 

NARRATIVE  RELIGIOUS  POETRY— THE  NATIONAL 
EPIC— THE  EPIC  OF  ANTIQUITY— ROMANCES 
OF  LOVE  AND  COURTESY 

THE  literature  of  the  Middle  Ages  is  an  expression  of  the 
spirit  of  feudalism  and  of  the  genius  of  the  Church. 
From  the  union  of  feudalism  and  Christianity  arose 
the  chivalric  ideals,  the  new  courtesy,  the  homage  to 
woman.  Abstract  ideas,  ethical,  theological,  and  those 
of  amorous  metaphysics,  were  rendered  through  alle- 
gory into  art.  Against  these  high  conceptions,  and 
the  overstrained  sentiment  connected  with  them,  the 
positive  intellect  and  the  mocking  temper  of  France 
reacted ;  a  literature  of  satire  arose.  By  degrees  the 
bourgeois  spirit  encroached  upon  and  overpowered 
the  chivalric  ideals.  At  length  the  mediaeval  concep- 
tions were  exhausted.  Literature  dwindled  as  its  sources 
were  impoverished  ;  ingenuities  and  technical  formalities 
replaced  imagination.  The  minds  of  men  were  prepared 
to  accept  the  new  influences  of  the  Renaissance  and  the 
Reformation. 


FRENCH   LITERATURE 


NARRATIVE  RELIGIOUS  POETRY 

The  oldest  monument  of  the  French  language  is  found 
in  the  Strasburg  Oaths  (842)  ;  the  oldest  French  poem 
possessing  literary  merit  is  the  Vie  de  Saint  Alexis,  of 
which  a  redaction  belonging  to  the  middle  of  the  eleventh 
century  survives.  The  passion  of  piety  and  the  passion 
of  combat,  the  religious  and  the  warrior  motives,  found 
early  expression  in  literature  ;  from  the  first  arose  the 
Lives  of  Saints  and  other  devout  writings,  from  the  second 
arose  the  chansons  dc  geste.  They  grew  side  by  side,  and 
had  a  like  manner  of  development.  If  one  takes  pre- 
cedence of  the  other,  it  is  only  because  by  the  chances  of 
time  Saint  Alexis  remains  to  us,  and  the  forerunners  of 
the  Chanson  de  Roland  are  lost.  With  each  species  of 
poetry  cantilenes  —  short  lyrico  -  epic  poems  —  preceded 
the  narrative  form.  Both  the  profane  and  what  may  be 
called  the  religious  chanson  de  gcste  were  sung  or  recited 
by  the  same  jongleurs — men  of  a  class  superior  to  the 
vulgar  purveyors  of  amusement.  Gradually  the  poems 
of  both  kinds  expanded  in  length,  and  finally  prose  nar- 
rative took  the  place  of  verse. 

The  Lives  of  Saints  are  in  the  main  founded  on  Latin 
originals ;  the  names  of  their  authors  are  commonly 
unknown.  Saint  Alexis,  a  tale  of  Syriac  origin,  possibly 
the  work  of  Tedbalt,  a  canon  of  Vernon,  consists  of  125 
stanzas,  each  of  five  lines,  which  are  bound  together 
by  a  single  assonant  rhyme.  It  tells  of  the  chastity  and 
poverty  of  the  saint,  who  flies  from  his  virgin  bride, 
lives  among  beggars,  returns  unrecognised  to  his  father's 


LIVES    OF   SAINTS  5 

house,  endures  the  insults  of  the  servants,  and,  dying 
at  Rome,  receives  high  posthumous  honours ;  finally, 
he  is  rejoined  by  his  wife — the  poet  here  adding  to  the 
legend — in  the  presence  of  God,  among  the  company 
of  the  angels.  Some  of  the  sacred  poems  are  derived 
from  the  Bible,  rhymed  versions  of  which  were  part 
of  the  jongleur's  equipment ;  some  from  the  apocryphal 
gospels,  or  legends  of  Judas,  of  Pilate,  of  the  Cross,  or, 
again,  from  the  life  of  the  Blessed  Virgin.  The  literary 
value  of  these  is  inferior  to  that  of  the  versified  Lives  of 
the  Saints.  About  the  tenth  century  the  marvels  of 
Eastern  hagiography  became  known  in  France,  and  gave 
a  powerful  stimulus  to  the  devout  imagination.  A  cer- 
tain rivalry  existed  between  the  claims  of  profane  and 
religious  literature,  and  a  popular  audience  for  narrative 
poems  designed  for  edification  was  secured  by  their  re- 
cital in  churches.  Wholly  fabulous  some  of  these  are — 
as  the  legend  of  St.  Margaret — but  they  were  not  on 
this  account  the  less  welcome  or  the  less  esteemed.  In 
certain  instances  the  tale  is  dramatically  placed  in  the 
mouth  of  a  narrator,  and  thus  the  way  was  in  a  measure 
prepared  for  the  future  mystery-plays. 

More  than  fifty  of  these  Lives  of  Saints  are  known, 
composed  generally  in  octosyllabic  verse,  and  varying  in 
length  from  some  hundreds  of  lines  to  ten  thousand.  In 
the  group  which  treats  of  the  national  saints  of  France, 
an  element  of  history  obscured  by  errors,  extravagances, 
and  anachronisms  may  be  found.  The  purely  legendary 
matter  occupies  a  larger  space  in  those  derived  from  the 
East,  in  which  the  religious  ideal  is  that  of  the  her- 
mit life.  The  celebrated  Barlaam  et  Joasaph,  in  which 
Joasaph,  son  of  a  king  of  India,  escaping  from  his 
father's  restraints,  fulfils  his  allotted  life  as  a  Christian 


6  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

ascetic,  is  traceable  to  a  Buddhist  source.  The  narra- 
tives of  Celtic  origin  —  such  as  those  of  the  Purgatory 
of  St.  Patrick  and  the  voyages  of  St.  Brendan  —  are 
coloured  by  a  tender  mysticism,  and  sometimes  charm 
us  with  a  strangeness  of  adventure,  in  which  a  feeling 
for  external  nature,  at  least  in  its  aspects  of  wonder, 
appears.  The  Celtic  saints  are  not  hermits  of  the 
desert,  but  travellers  or  pilgrims.  Among  the  lives  of 
contemporary  saints,  by  far  the  most  remarkable  is  that 
of  our  English  Becket  by  Gamier  de  Pont-Sainte- 
Maxence.  Gamier  had  himself  known  the  archbishop  ; 
he  obtained  the  testimony  of  witnesses  in  England  ;  he 
visited  the  places  associated  with  the  events  of  Becket's 
life  ;  his  work  has  high  value  as  an  historical  document ; 
it  possesses  a  personal  accent,  rare  in  such  writings  ;  a 
genuine  dramatic  vigour  ;  and  great  skill  and  harmonious 
power  in  its  stanzas  of  five  rhyming  lines. 

A  body  of  short  poems,  inspired  by  religious  feeling, 
and  often  telling  of  miracles  obtained  by  the  inter- 
cession of  the  Virgin  or  the  saints,  is  known  as  Contes 
pieux.  Many  of  these  were  the  work  of  Gautier  de 
Coinci  (1177-1236),  a  Benedictine  monk;  he  translates 
from  Latin  sources,  but  with  freedom,  adding  matter  of 
his  own,  and  in  the  course  of  his  pious  narratives  gives 
an  image,  far  from  flattering,  of  the  life  and  manners  of 
his  own  time.  It  is  he  who  tells  of  the  robber  who, 
being  accustomed  to  commend  himself  in  his  adventures 
to  our  Lady,  was  supported  on  the  gibbet  for  three  days 
by  her  white  hands,  and  received  his  pardon  ;  and  of 
the  illiterate  monk  who  suffered  shame  because  he  knew 
no  more  than  his  Ave  Maria,  but  who,  when  dead,  was 
proved  a  holy  man  by  the  five  roses  that  came  from 
his  mouth  in  honour  of  the  five  letters  of  Maria's  name; 


PIOUS    TALES  7 

and  of  the  nun  who  quitted  her  convent  to  lead  a  life  of 
disorder,  yet  still  addressed  a  daily  prayer  to  the  Virgin, 
and  who,  returning  after  long  years,  found  that  the 
Blessed  Mary  had  filled  her  place,  and  that  her  absence 
was  unknown.  The  collection  known  as  Vies  des  Peres 
exhibits  the  same  naivete  of  pious  feeling  and  imagina- 
tion. Man  is  weak  and  sinful ;  but  by  supernatural  aid 
the  humble  are  exalted,  sinners  are  redeemed,  and  the 
suffering  innocent  are  avenged.  Even  Theophile,  the 
priest  who  sold  his  soul  to  the  devil,  on  repentance 
receives  back  from  the  Queen  of  Heaven  the  very  docu- 
ment by  which  he  had  put  his  salvation  in  pawn.  The 
sinner  (Chevalier  au  barillef)  who  endeavours  for  a  year 
to  fill  the  hermit's  little  cask  at  running  streams,  and 
endeavours  in  vain,  finds  it  brimming  the  moment  one 
tear  of  true  penitence  falls  into  the  vessel.  Most  ex- 
quisite in  its  feeling  is  the  tale  of  the  Tombeur  de  Notre- 
Damc — a  poor  acrobat — a  jongleur  turned  monk — who 
knows  not  even  the  Pater  noster  or  the  Credo,  and  can 
only  offer  before  our  Lady's  altar  his  tumbler's  feats  ;  he 
is  observed,  and  as  he  sinks  worn  out  and  faint  before 
the  shrine,  the  Virgin  is  seen  to  descend,  with  her  angelic 
attendants,  and  to  wipe  away  the  sweat  from  her  poor 
servant's  forehead.  If  there  be  no  other  piety  in  such  a 
tale  as  this,  there  is  at  least  the  piety  of  human  pity. 


II 

THE  NATIONAL  EPIC 

Great  events  and  persons,  a  religious  and  national 
spirit,  and  a  genius  for  heroic  narrative  being  given, 
epic  literature  arises,  as  it  were,  inevitably.  Short  poems, 


8  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

partly  narrative,  partly  lyrical,  celebrate  victories  or 
defeats,  the  achievements  of  conquerors  or  defenders, 
and  are  sung  to  relieve  or  to  sustain  the  passion  of  the 
time.  The  French  epopee  had  its  origin  in  the  national 
songs  of  the  Germanic  invaders  of  Gaul,  adopted  from 
their  conquerors  by  the  Gallo-Romans.  With  the  bap- 
tism of  Clovis  at  Reims,  and  the  acceptance  of  Chris- 
tianity by  the  Franks  (496),  a  national  consciousness 
began  to  exist  —  a  national  and  religious  ideal  arose. 
Epic  heroes — Clovis,  Clotaire,  Dagobert,  Charles  Martel 
— became  centres  for  the  popular  imagination  ;  an  echo 
of  the  Dagobert  songs  is  found  in  Floovent,  a  poem  of 
the  twelfth  century  ;  eight  Latin  lines,  given  in  the 
Vie  de  Saint  Faron  by  Helgaire,  Bishop  of  Meaux, 
preserve,  in  their  ninth-century  rendering,  a  fragment  of 
the  songs  which  celebrated  Clotaire  II.  Doubtless 
more  and  more  in  these  lost  cantilcncs  the  German 
element  yielded  to  the  French,  and  finally  the  two 
streams  of  literature — French  and  German — separated  ; 
gradually,  also,  the  lyrical  element  yielded  to  the  epic, 
and  the  chanson  de  geste  was  developed  from  these 
songs. 

In  Charlemagne,  champion  of  Christendom  against 
Islam,  a  great  epic  figure  appeared  ;  on  his  person 
converged  the  epic  interest  ;  he  may  be  said  to  have 
absorbed  into  himself,  for  the  imagination  of  the  singers 
and  the  people,  the  persons  of  his  predecessors,  and 
even,  at  a  later  time,  of  his  successors  ;  their  deeds 
became  his  deeds,  their  fame  was  merged  in  his ;  he 
stood  forth  as  the  representative  of  France.  We  may 
perhaps  regard  the  ninth  century  as  the  period  of  the 
transformation  of  the  cantilenes  into  the  chansons  de 
gcste ;  in  the  fragment  of  Latin  prose  of  the  tenth 


THE    HISTORICAL   BASIS  9 

century  —  reduced  to  prose  from  hexameters,  but  not 
completely  reduced  —  discovered  at  La  Haye  (and 
named  after  the  place  of  its  discovery),  is  found  an 
epic  episode  of  Carlovingian  war,  probably  derived 
from  a  chanson  de  gcste  of  the  preceding  century.  In 
each  chanson  the  gesta}-  the  deeds  or  achievements  of  a 
heroic  person,  are  glorified,  and  large  as  may  be  the 
element  of  invention  in  these  poems,  a  certain  histori- 
cal basis  or  historical  germ  may  be  found,  with  few 
exceptions,  in  each.  Roland  was  an  actual  person,  and 
a  battle  was  fought  at  Roncevaux  in  778.  William  of 
Orange  actually  encountered  the  Saracens  at  Villedaigne 
in  793.  Renaud  de  Montauban  lived  and  fought,  not 
indeed  against  Charlemagne,  but  against  Charles  Martel. 
Ogier,  Girard  de  Roussillon,  Raoul  de  Cambrai,  were  not 
mere  creatures  of  the  fancy.  Even  when  the  narrative 
records  no  historical  series  of  events,  it  may  express  their 
general  significance,  and  condense  into  itself  something 
of  the  spirit  of  an  epoch.  In  the  course  of  time,  how- 
ever, fantasy  made  a  conquest  of  the  historical  domain ; 
a  way  for  the  triumph  of  fantasy  had  been  opened  by 
the  incorporation  of  legend  into  the  narrative,  with  all  its 
wild  exaggerations,  its  reckless  departures  from  truth,  its 
conventional  types  of  character,  its  endlessly -repeated 
incidents  of  romance — the  child  nourished  by  wild  beasts, 
the  combat  of  unrecognised  father  and  son,  the  hero 
vulnerable  only  in  one  point,  the  vindication  of  the 
calumniated  wife  or  maiden  ;  and  by  the  over-labour 
of  fantasy,  removed  far  from  nature  and  reality,  the  epic 
material  was  at  length  exhausted. 

The   oldest   surviving   chanson   de  geste   is   the    SONG 
OF  ROLAND,  and  it  is  also  the  best.     The  disaster  of 

1  Gestes  meant  (i)  deeds,  (2)  their  history,  (3)  the  heroic  family. 


io  FRENCH    LITERATURE 

Roncevaux,  probably  first  sung  in  cantilcnes,  gave  rise 
to  other  chansons,  two  of  which,  of  earlier  -date  than 
the  surviving  poem,  can  in  a  measure  be  reconstructed 
from  the  Chronicle  of  Turpin  and  from  a  Latin  Carmen 
de  proditione  Guenonis.  These,  however,  do  not  detract 
from  the  originality  of  the  noble  work  in  our  possession, 
some  of  the  most  striking  episodes  of  which  are  not  else- 
where found.  The  oldest  manuscript  is  at  Oxford,  and 
the  last  line  has  been  supposed  to  give  the  author's  name 
— Touroude  (Latinised  "  Turoldus  ") — but  this  may  have 
been  the  name  of  the  jongleur  who  sang,  or  the  tran- 
scriber who  copied.  The  date  of  the  poem  lies  between 
that  of  the  battle  of  Hastings,  1066,  where  the  minstrel 
Taillefer  sang  in  other  words  the  deeds  of  Roland,  and 
the  year  1099.  The  poet  was  probably  a  Norman,  and 
he  may  have  been  one  of  the  Norman  William's  followers 
in  the  invasion  of  England. 

More  than  any  other  poem,  the  Chanson  de  Roland 
deserves  to  be  named  the  Iliad  of  the  Middle  Ages.  On 
August  15,  778,  the  rearguard  of  Charlemagne's  army, 
returning  from  a  successful  expedition  to  the  north  of 
Spain,  was  surprised  and  destroyed  by  Basque  moun- 
taineers in  the  valley  of  Roncevaux.  Among  those 
who  fell  was  Hrodland  (Roland),  Count  of  the  march  of 
Brittany.  For  Basques,  the  singers  substituted  a  host 
of  Saracens,  who,  after  promise  of  peace,  treacherously 
attack  the  Franks,  with  the  complicity  of  Roland's  enemy, 
the  traitor  Ganelon.  By  Roland's  side  is  placed  his  com- 
panion-in-arms, Olivier,  brave  but  prudent,  brother  of 
Roland's  betrothed,  la  belle  Atide,  who  learns  her  lover's 
death,  and  drops  dead  at  the  feet  of  Charlemagne.  In 
fact  but  thirty-six  years  of  age,  Charlemagne  is  here  a 
majestic  old  man,  a  la  barbe  flcurie,  still  full  of  heroic 


SONG  OF   ROLAND  11 

vigour.  Around  him  are  his  great  lords — Duke  Naime, 
the  Nestor  of  this  Iliad  ;  Archbishop  Turpin,  the  warrior 
prelate ;  Oger  the  Dane  ;  the  traitor  Ganelon.  And 
overhead  is  God,  who  will  send  his  angels  to  bear 
heavenwards  the  soul  of  the  gallant  Roland.  The  idea 
of  the  poem  is  at  once  national  and  religious — the 
struggle  between  France,  as  champion  of  Christendom, 
and  the  enemies  of  France  and  of  God.  Its  spirit  is  that 
of  the  feudal  aristocracy  of  the  eleventh  century.  The 
characters  are  in  some  degree  representative  of  general 
types,  but  that  of  Roland  is  clearly  individualised  ;  the 
excess  of  soldierly  pride  which  will  not  permit  him,  until 
too  late,  to  sound  his  horn  and  recall  Charlemagne  to 
his  aid,  is  a  glorious  fault.  When  all  his  comrades  have 
fallen,  he  still  continues  the  strife  ;  and  when  he  dies,  it 
is  with  his  face  to  the  retreating  foe.  His  fall  is  not 
unavenged  on  the  Saracens  and  on  the  traitor.  The 
poem  is  written  in  decasyllabic  verse — in  all  4000  lines 
— divided  into  sections  or  laisses  of  varying  length,  the 
lines  of  each  laisse  being  held  together  by  a.  single 
assonance.1  And  such  is  the  form  in  which  the  best 
chansons  de  geste  are  written.  The  decasyllabic  line, 
derived  originally  from  popular  Latin  verse,  rhythmical 
rather  than  metrical,  such  as  the  Roman  legionaries 
sang,  is  the  favourite  verse  of  the  older  chansons.  The 
alexandrine,2  first  seen  in  the  Pelerinage  de  Jerusalem  of 
the  early  years  of  the  twelfth  century,  in  general  in- 
dicates later  and  inferior  work.  The  laisse,  bound  in 
one  by  its  identical  assonance,  might-  contain  five  lines 

1  Assonance,  i.  e.  vowel-rhyme,  without  an  agreement  of  consonants. 

2  Verse  of  twelve  syllables,  with  cesura  after  the  sixth  accented  syllable. 
In  the  decasyllabic  line  the  cesura  generally  followed  the  fourth,  but  some- 
times the  sixth,  tonic  syllable. 


12  FRENCH    LITERATURE 

or  five  hundred.  In  chansons  of  late  date  the  full 
rhyme  often  replaces  assonance  ;  but  inducing,  as  it 
did  in  unskilled  hands,  artificial  and  feeble  expansions 
of  the  sense,  rhyme  was  a  cause  which  co-operated 
with  other  causes  in  the  decline  of  this  form  of  narrative 
poetry. 

Naturally  the  chansons  which  celebrated  the  achieve- 
ments of  one  epic  personage  or  one  heroic  family  fell 
into  a  group,  and  the  idea  of  cycles  of  songs  having 
arisen,  the  later  poets  forced  many  independent  subjects 
to  enter  into  the  so-called  cycle  of  the  king  (Charle- 
magne), or  that  of  William  of  Orange,  or  that  of  Doon 
of  Mayence.  The  second  of  these  had,  indeed,  a  genuine 
cyclic  character :  it  told  of  the  resistance  of  the  south  of 
France  to  the  Mussulmans.  The  last  cycle  to  develop 
was  that  of  the  Crusades.  Certain  poems  or  groups  of 
poems  may  be  distinguished  as  gcstcs  of  the  provinces, 
including  the  Geste  des  Lorrains,  that  of  the  North 
(Raoul  de  Cambrai),  that  of  Burgundy,  and  others.1 
Among  these  may  be  placed  the  beautiful  tale  of  Amis 
et  Amilcs,  a  glorification  of  friendship  between  man  and 
man,  which  endures  all  trials  and  self-sacrifices.  Other 
poems,  again,  are  unconnected  with  any  of  these  cycles ; 
and,  indeed,  the  cyclic  division  is  more  a  convenience  of 
classification  than  a  fact  in  the  spontaneous  development 
of  this  form  of  art.  The  entire  period  of  the  evolution 
of  epic  song  extends  from  the  tenth  or  eleventh  to  the 
fifteenth  century,  or,  we  might  say,  from  the  Chanson  de 
Roland  to  the  Chronique  de  Bertrand  Duguesclin.  The 
eleventh  century  produced  the  most  admirable  work ; 

1  The  epopee  composed  in  Provenfal,  sung  but  not  transcribed,  is  wholly 
lost.  The  development  of  lyric  poetry  in  the  South  probably  checked  the 
development  of  the  epic. 


SPIRIT   OF   THE   NATIONAL   EPIC  13 

in  the  twelfth  century  the  chansons  are  more  numerous, 
but  nothing  was  written  of  equal  merit  with  the  Song  of 
Ronald  ;  after  the  death  of  Louis  VII.  (i  180)  the  old  epic 
material  was  rehandled  and  beaten  thin — the  decadence 
was  already  in  progress. 

The  style  in  which  the  chansons  de  geste  are  written 
is  something  traditional,  something  common  to  the 
people  and  to  the  time,  rather  than  characteristic  of  the 
individual  authors.  They  show  little  of  the  art  of  ar- 
ranging or  composing  the  matter  so  as  to  produce  an 
unity  of  effect  :  the  narrative  straggles  or  condenses 
itself  as  if  by  accident ;  skill  in  transitions  is  unknown. 
The  study  of  character  is  rude  and  elementary :  a  man 
is  either  heroic  or  dastard,  loyal  or  a  traitor ;  wholly 
noble,  or  absolutely  base.  Yet  certain  types  of  man- 
hood and  womanhood  are  presented  with  power  and 
beauty.  The  feeling  for  external  nature,  save  in  some 
traditional  formulae,  hardly  appears.  The  passion  for 
the  marvellous  is  everywhere  present :  St.  Maurice,  St. 
George,  and  a  shining  company,  mounted  on  white 
steeds,  will  of  a  sudden  bear  down  the  hordes  of  the 
infidel ;  an  angel  stands  glorious  behind  the  throne  of 
Charlemagne  ;  or  in  narrative  of  Celtic  origin  angels 
may  be  mingled  with  fays.  God,  the  great  suzerain,  to 
whom  even  kings  owe  homage,  rules  over  all  ;  Jesus  and 
Mary  are  watchful  of  the  soldiers  of  the  cross  ;  Paradise 
receives  the  souls  of  the  faithful.  As  for  earth,  there  is 
no  land  so  gay  or  so  dear  as  la  douce  France.  The 
Emperor  is  above  all  the  servant  and  protector  of  the 
Church.  As  the  influence  of  the  great  feudal  lords  in- 
creased, they  are  magnified  often  at  the  expense  of  the 
monarchy  ;  yet  even  when  in  high  rebellion,  they  secretly 
feel  the  duty  of  loyalty.  The  recurring  poetic  epithet 


14  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

and  phrase  of  formula  found  in  the  chansons  de  gcste 
often  indicate  rather  than  veil  a  defect  of  imagination. 
Episodes  and  adventures  are  endlessly  repeated  from 
poem  to  poem  with  varying  circumstances — the  siege, 
the  assault,  the  capture,  the  duel  of  Christian  hero  and 
Saracen  giant,  the  Paynim  princess  amorous  of  a  fair 
French  prisoner,  the  marriage,  the  massacre,  and  a  score 
of  other  favourite  incidents. 

The  popularity  of  the  French  epopee  extended  be- 
yond France.  Every  country  of  Europe  translated  or 
imitated  the  chansons  de  geste.  Germany  made  the 
fortunate  choice  of  Roland  and  Aliscans.  In  England 

t  o 

two  of  trfe  worst  examples,  Ficrabras  and  Otincl,  were 
special  favourites.  In  Norway  the  chansons  were 
applied  to  the  purpose  of  religious  propaganda.  Italy 
made  the  tales  of  Roland,  Ogier,  Renaud,  her  own. 
Meanwhile  the  national  epopee  declined  in  France ;  a 
breath  of  scepticism  touched  and  withered  the  leafage 
and  blossom  of  imagination ;  it  even  became  possible 
to  parody — as  in  Audigier — the  heroic  manner.  The 
employment  of  rhyme  in  place  of  assonance,  and  of 
the  alexandrine  in  place  of  the  decasyllabic  line,  en- 
couraged what  may  be  called  poetical  padding.  The 
influence  of  the  Breton  romances  diverted  the  chansons 
dc  geste  into  ways  of  fantasy  ;  "  We  shall  never  know," 
writes  M.  Leon  Gautier,  "  the  harm  which  the  Round 
Table  has  done  us."  Finally,  verse  became  a  weariness, 
and  was  replaced  by  prose.  The  decline  has  progressed 
to  a  fall. 


THEBES  AND  TROY  15 

III 
THE  EPIC  OF  ANTIQUITY 

Later  to  develop  than  the  national  epopee  was  that 
which  formed  the  cycle  of  antiquity.  Their  romantic 
matter  made  the  works  of  the  Greco-Roman  decadence 
even  more  attractive  than  the  writings  of  the  great 
classical  authors  to  poets  who  would  enter  into  rivalry 
with  the  singers  of  the  chansons  de  geste.  These 
poems,  which  mediasvalise  ancient  literature  —  poems 
often  of  portentous  length  —  have  been  classified  in 
three  groups  —  epic  romances,  historical  or  pseudo- 
historical  romances,  and  mythological  tales,  including 
the  imitations  of  Ovid.  The  earliest  in  date  of  the 
first  group  (about  1150-1155)  is  the  ROMANCE  OF 
THEBES,  the  work  of  an  unknown  author,  founded 
upon  a  compendium  of  the  Thebaid  of  Statius,  pre- 
ceded by  the  story  of'CEdipus.  It  opened  the  way 
for  the  vast  ROMANCE  OF  TROY,  written  some  ten 
years  later,  by  Benoit  de  Sainte-More.  The  chief 
sources  of  Benoit  were  versions,  probably  more  or 
less  augmented,  of  the  famous  records  of  the  Trojan 
war,  ascribed  to  the  Phrygian  Dares,  an  imaginary 
defender  of  the  city,  and  the  Cretan  Dictys,  one  of 
the  besiegers.  Episodes  were  added,  in  which,  on 
a  slender  suggestion,  Benoit  set  his  own  inventive 
faculty  to  work,  and  among  these  by  far  the  most 
interesting  and  admirable  is  the  story  of  Troilus  and 
Briseida,  known  better  to  us  by  her  later  name  of 
Cressida.  Through  Boccaccio's  //  Filostrato  this  tale 
reached  our  English  Chaucer,  and  through  Chaucer  it 


1 6  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

gave  rise  to  the  strange,  half-heroic,  half-satirical  play  of 
Shakespeare. 

Again,  ten  years  later,  an  unknown  poet  was  adapting 
Virgil  to  the  taste  of  his  contemporaries  in  his  Eneas, 
where  the  courtship  of  the  Trojan  hero  and  Lavinia  is 
related  in  the  chivalric  manner.  All  these  poems  are 
composed  in  the  swift  octosyllabic  verse ;  the  Troy 
extends  to  thirty  thousand  lines.  While  the  names  of 
the  personages  are  classical,  the  spirit  and  life  of  the 
romances  are  wholly  mediaeval  :  Troilus,  and  Hector, 
and  yEneas  are  conceived  as  if  knights  of  the  Middle 
Ages  ;  their  \vars  and  loves  are  those  of  gallant  cheva- 
liers. The  Romance  of  Julius  Cccsar  (in  alexandrine 
verse),  the  work  of  a  certain  Jacot  de  Forest,  writing 
in  the  second  half  of  the  thirteenth  century,  versifies, 
with  some  additions  from  the  Commentaries  of  Caesar,  an 
earlier  prose  translation  by  Jehan  de  Thuin  (about  1240) 
of  Lucan's  Pharsalia — the  oldest  translation  in  prose  of 
any  secular  work  of  antiquity.  Caesar's  passion  for 
Cleopatra  in  the  Romance  is  the  love  prescribed  to 
good  knights  by  the  amorous  code  of  the  writer's  day, 
and  Cleopatra  herself  has  borrowed  something  of  the 
charm  of  Tristram's  Iseult. 

If  Julius  Cczsar  may  be  styled  historical,  the  ROMAN 
D'ALEXANDRE,  a  poem  of  twenty  thousand  lines  (to  the 
form  of  which  this  romance  gave  its  name — "alexan- 
drine "  verse),  the  work  of  Lambert  le  Tort  and 
Alexandre  de  Bernay,  can  only  be  described  as  legen- 
dary. All — or  nearly  all  —  that  was  written  during  the 
Middle  Ages  in  French  on  the  subject  of  Alexander 
may  be  traced  back  to  Latin  versions  of  a  Greek 
compilation,  perhaps  of  the  first  century,  ascribed  to 
Callisthenes,  the  companion  of  Alexander  on  his  Asiatic 


ROMANCE  OF  ALEXANDER  17 

expedition.1  It  is  uncertain  how  much  the  Alexandra 
may  owe  to  a  Provencal  poem  on  the  same  subject, 
written  in  the  early  years  of  the  twelfth  century,  pro- 
bably by  Alberic  de  Briangon,  of  which  only  a  short 
fragment,  but  that  of  high  merit,  has  been  preserved. 
From  his  birth,  and  his  education  by  Aristotle  and  the 
enchanter  Nectanebus,  to  the  division,  as  death  ap- 
proaches, of  his  empire  between  his  twelve  peers,  the 
story  of  Alexander  is  a  series  of  marvellous  adventures; 
the  imaginary  wonders  of  the  East,  monstrous  wild 
beasts,  water-women,  flower-maidens,  'Amazons,  rain  of 
fire,  magic  mountains,  magic  fountains,  trees  of  the  sun 
and  of  the  moon,  are  introduced  with  a  liberal  hand. 
The  hero  is  specially  distinguished  by  the  virtue  of 
liberality  ;  a  jongleur  who  charms  him  by  lays  sung  to 
the  flute,  is  rewarded  with  the  lordship  of  Tarsus,  a 
worthy  example  for  the  twelfth-century  patrons  of  the 
poet.  The  romance  had  a  resounding  fame. 

Of  classical  poets,  Ovid  ranked  next  to  Virgil  in  the 
esteem  of  the  Middle  Ages.  The  mythology  of  paganism 
was  sanctified  by  the  assumption  that  it  was  an  allegory 
of  Christian  mysteries,  and  thus  the  stories  might  first  be 
enjoyed  by  the  imagination,  and  then  be  expounded  in 
their  spiritual  meaning.  The  Metamorphoses  supplied 
Chretien  de  Troyes  with  the  subject  of  his  Philomena; 
other  W7riters  gracefully  dealt  with  the  tales  of  Piramus 
and  of  Narcissus.  But  the  most  important  work  founded 
upon  Ovid  was  a  versified  translation  of  the  Metamor- 
phoses (before  1305)  by  a  Franciscan  monk,  Chretien 
Legouais  de  Sainte  -  Maure,  with  appended  interpreta- 

1  Not  quite  all,  for  certain  borrowings  were  made  from  the  correspondence 
of  Alexander  with  Dindimus,  King  of  the  Brahmans,  and  from  the  Alexandri 
magni  tier  ad  Paraii.'sum. 


1 8  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

tions,  scientific,  historical,  moral,  or  religious,  of  the 
mythological  fables.  Ovid's  Art  of  Love,  of  which  more 
than  one  rendering  was  made,  aided  in  the  formation 
or  development  of  the  mediaeval  theory  of  love  and  the 
amorous  casuistry  founded  upon  that  theory. 


IV 
ROMANCES  OF  LOVE  AND  COURTESY 

Under  the  gen'eral  title  of  the  Epopee  courtoise — the 
Epopee  of  Courtesy — may  be  grouped  those  romances 
which  are  either  works  of  pure  imagination  or  of  un- 
certain origin,  or  which  lead  us  back  to  Byzantine  or 
to  Celtic  sources.  They  include  some  of  the  most 
beautiful  and  original  poems  of  the  Middle  Ages. 
Appearing  first  about  the  opening  of  the  twelfth  cen- 
tury, later  in  date  than  the  early  chansons  de  geste,  and 
contemporary  with  the  courtly  lyric  poetry  of  love, 
they  exhibit  the  chivalric  spirit  in  a  refined  and  graceful 
aspect ;  their  marvels  are  not  gross  wonders,  but  often 
surprises  of  beauty  ;  they  are  bright  in  colour,  and  varied 
in  the  play  of  life  ;  the  passions  which  they  interpret,  and 
especially  the  passion  of  love,  are  felt  with  an  exquisite 
delicacy  and  a  knowledge  of  the  workings  of  the  heart. 
They  move  lightly  in  their  rhymed  or  assonanced  verse ; 
even  when  they  passed  into  the  form  of  prose  they 
retained  something  of  their  charm.  Breton  harpers  wan- 
dering through  France  and  England  made  Celtic  themes 
known  through  their  lais  ,•  the  fame  of  King  Arthur  was 
spread  abroad  by  these  singers  and  by  the  History  of 
Geoffrey  of  Monmouth.  French  poets  welcomed  the 
new  matter  of  romance,  infused  into  it  their  own  chivalric 


ROMANCES  OF    TRISTAN  19 

spirit,  made  it  a  receptacle  for  their  ideals  of  gallantry, 
courtesy,  honour,  grace,  and  added  their  own  beautiful 
inventions.  With  the  story  of  King  Arthur  was  connected 
that  of  the  sacred  vessel — the  graal — in  which  Joseph  of 
Arimathea  at  the  cross  had  received  the  Saviour's  blood. 
And  thus  the  rude  Breton  lais  were  elevated  not  only  to 
a  chivalric  but  to  a  religious  purpose. 

The  romances  of  Tristan  may  certainly  be  named  as 
of  Celtic  origin.  About  1150  an  Anglo-Norman  poet, 
B£ROUL,  brought  together  the  scattered  narrative  of  his 
adventures  in  a  romance,  of  which  a  large  fragment 
remains.  The  secret  loves  of  Tristan  and  Iseut,  their 
woodland  wanderings,  their  dangers  and  escapes,  are 
related  with  fine  imaginative  sympathy  ;  but  in  this  ver- 
sion of  the  tale  the  fatal  love-philtre  operates  only  for  a 
period  of  three  years ;  Iseut,  with  Tristan's  consent,  re- 
turns to  her  husband,  King  Marc  ;  and  then  a  second 
passion  is  born  in  their  hearts,  a  passion  which  is  the 
offspring  not  of  magic  but  of  natural  attraction,  and  at 
a  critical  moment  of  peril  the  fragment  closes.  About 
twenty  years  later  (1170)  the  tale  was  again  sung  by  an 
Anglo-Norman  named  THOMAS.  Here — again  in  a  frag- 
ment— we  read  of  Tristan's  marriage,  a  marriage  only  in 
name,  to  the  white-handed  Iseut  of  Brittany,  his  fidelity 
of  heart  to  his  one  first  love,  his  mortal  wound  and  deep 
desire  to  see  the  Queen  of  Cornwall,  the  device  of  the 
white  or  black  sails  to  announce  the  result  of  his  entreaty 
that  she  should  come,  his  deception,  and  the  death  of  his 
true  love  upon  her  lover's  corpse.  Early  in  the  thirteenth 
century  was  composed  a  long  prose  romance,  often  re- 
handled  and  expanded,  upon  the  same  subject,  in  which 
Iseut  and  Tristan  meet  at  the  last  moment  and  die  in  a 
close  embrace. 


20  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

Le  ChZvrefenille  (The  Honeysuckle),  one  of  several 
lais  by  a  twelfth-century  poetess,  MARIE,  living  in  Eng- 
land, but  a  native  of  France,  tells  gracefully  of  an  assig- 
nation of  Tristan  and  Iseut,  their  meeting  in  the  forest, 
and  their  sorrowful  farewell.  Marie  de  France  wrote 
with  an  exquisite  sense  of  the  generosities  and  delicacy 
of  the  heart,  and  with  a  skill  in  narrative  construction 
which  was  rare  among  the  poets  of  her  time.  In  Les 
Deux  Amants,  the  manly  pride  of  passion,  which  in  a  trial 
of  strength  declines  the  adventitious  aid  of  a  reviving 
potion,  is  rewarded  by  the  union  in  death  of  the  lover 
and  his  beloved.  In  Yonec  and  in  Lanval  tales  of  love 
and  chivalry  are  made  beautiful  by  lore  of  fairyland,  in 
which  the  element  of  wonder  is  subdued  to  beauty.  But 
the  most  admirable  poem  by  Marie  de  France  is  unques- 
tionably her  Eliduc.  The  Breton  knight  Eliduc  is  pas- 
sionately loved  by  Guilliadon,  the  only  daughter  of  the 
old  King  of  Exeter,  on  whose  behalf  he  had  waged  battle. 
Her  tokens  of  affection,  girdle  and  ring,  are  received  by 
Eliduc  in  silence ;  for,  though  her  passion  is  returned,  he 
has  left  in  Brittany,  unknown  to  Guilliadon,  a  faithful 
wife.  Very  beautiful  is  the  self-transcending  love  of  the 
wife,  who  restores  her  rival  from  seeming  death,  and  her- 
self retires  into  a  convent.  The  lovers  are  wedded,  and 
live  in  charity  to  the  poor,  but  with  a  trouble  at  the  heart 
for  the  wrong  that  they  have  done.  In  the  end  they 
part ;  Eliduc  embraces  the  religious  life,  and  the  two 
loving  women  are  united  as  sisters  in  the  same  abbey. 

Wace,  in  his  romance  of  the  Brut  (1155),  which  renders 
into  verse  the  Historia  of  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth,  makes 
the  earliest  mention  of  the  Round  Table.  Whether  the 
Arthurian  legends  be  of  Celtic  or  of  French  origin — and 
the  former  seems  probable — the  French  romances  of 


CHRETIEN   DE  TROVES  21 

King  Arthur  owe  but  the  crude  material  to  Celtic 
sources  ;  they  may  be  said  to  begin  with  CHRETIEN  DE 
TROVES,  whose  lost  poem  on  Tristan  was  composed 
about  1160.  Between  that  date  and  1175  he  wrote  his 
Erec  et  Enide  (a  tale  known  to  us  through  Tennyson's 
idyll  of  Geraint  and  Enid,  derived  from  the  Welsh 
Mabinogiori],  Cligcs,  Le  Chevalier  de  la  CJiarrette,  Le  Che- 
valier au  Lion,  and  Perceval.  In  Cligcs  the  maidenhood 
of  his  beloved  Fenice,  wedded  in  form  to  the  Emperor 
of  Constantinople,  is  guarded  by  a  magic  potion ;  like 
Romeo's  Juliet,  she  sleeps  in  apparent  death,  but,  happier 
than  Juliet,  she  recovers  from  her  trance  to  fly  with  her 
lover  to  the  court  of  Arthur.  The  CJievalier  de  la  CJiarrette, 
at  first  unknown  by  name,  is  discovered  to  be  Lancelot, 
who,  losing  his  horse,  has  condescended,  in  order  that 
he  may  obtain  sight  of  Queen  Guenievre,  and  in  pas- 
sionate disregard  of  the  conventions  of  knighthood,  to 
seat  himself  in  a  cart  which  a  dwarf  is  leading.  After 
gallant  adventures  on  the  Queen's  behalf,  her  indignant 
resentment  of  his  unknightly  conduct,  estrangement,  and 
rumours  of  death,  he  is  at  length  restored  to  her  favour.1 
While  Perceval  was  still  unfinished,  Chretien  de  Troyes 
died.  It  was  continued  by  other  poets,  and  through  this 
romance  the  quest  of  the  holy  graal  became  a  portion  of 
the- Arthurian  cycle.  A  Perceval  by  ROBERT  DE  BORON, 
who  wrote  in  the  early  part  of  the  thirteenth  century, 
has  been  lost;  but  a  prose  redaction  of  the  romance 
exists,  which  closes  with  the  death  of  King  Arthur.  The 
great  Lancelot  in  prose  —  a  vast  compilation  —  (about 
1220)  reduces  the  various  adventures  of  its  hero  and  of 
other  knights  of  the  King  to  their  definitive  form;  and 

1  Chretien  de  Troyes  is  the  first  poet  to  tell  of  the  love  of  Lancelot  for  the 
Queen. 


22  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

here  the  achievement  of  the  graal  is  assigned,  not  to 
Perceval,  but  to  the  saintly  knight  Sir  Galaad  ;  Arthur  is 
slain  in  combat  with  the  revolter  Mordret ;  and  Lancelot 
and  the  Queen  enter  into  the  life  of  religion.  Passion 
and  piety  are  alike  celebrated ;  the  rude  Celtic  legends 
have  been  sanctified.  The  earlier  history  of  the  sacred 
vase  was  traced  by  Robert  de  Boron  in  his  Joseph 
d'AriinatJiie  (or  the  Saint-Graal),  soon  to  be  rehandled 
and  developed  in  prose  ;  and  he  it  was  who,  in  his 
Merlin — also  presently  converted  into  prose — on  sugges- 
tions derived  from  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth,  brought  the 
great  enchanter  into  Arthurian  romance.  By  the  middle 
of  the  thirteenth  century  the  cycle  had  received  its  full 
development.  Towards  the  middle  of  the  fourteenth 
century,  in  Perceforest,  an  attempt  was  made  to  connect 
the  legend  of  Alexander  the  Great  with  that  of  King 
Arthur. 

Beside  the  so-called  Breton  romances,  the  Epopee 
courtoise  may  be  taken  to  include  many  poems  of  Greek, 
of  Byzantine,  or  of  uncertain  origin,  such  as  the  Roman 
de  la  Violette,  the  tale  of  a  wronged  wife,  having  much  in 
common  with  that  novel  of  Boccaccio  with  which  Shake- 
speare's Cymbeline  is  connected,  the  Floire  et  Blanche- 
fteur;  the  Partenopeus  de  Blois,  a  kind  of  "  Cupid  and 
Psyche "  story,  with  the  parts  of  the  lovers  transposed, 
and  others.  In  the  early  years  of  the  thirteenth  century 
the  prose  romance  rivalled  in  popularity  the  romance 
in  verse.  The  exquisite  chante-fable  of  Aucassin  et 
Nicolette,  of  the  twelfth  century,  is  partly  in  prose,  partly 
in  assonanced  laisses  of  seven-syllable  verse.  It  is  a 
story  of  the  victory  of  love  :  the  heir  of  Count  Garin  of 
Beaucaire  is  enamoured  of  a  beautiful  maiden  of  un- 
known birth,  purchased  from  the  Saracens,  who  proves 


SPIRIT  OF  THE  E~POPE"E  COURTOISE        23 

to  be  daughter  of  the  King  of  Carthage,  and  in  the 
end  the  lovers  are  united.  In  one  remarkable  passage 
unusual  sympathy  is  shown  with  the  hard  lot  of  the 
peasant,  whose  trials  and  sufferings  are  contrasted  with 
the  lighter  troubles  of  the  aristocratic  class. 

In  general  the  poems  of  the  £popte  courtoise  exhibit 
much  of  the  brilliant  external  aspect  of  the  life  of  chivalry 
as  idealised  by  the  imagination ;  dramatic  situations  are 
ingeniously  devised;  the  emotions  of  the  chief  actors  are 
expounded  and  analysed,  sometimes  with  real  delicacy ; 
but  in  the  conception  of  character,  in  the  recurring  inci- 
dents, in  the  types  of  passion,  in  the  creation  of  marvel 
and  surprise,  a  large  conventional  element  is  present. 
Love  is  independent  of  marriage,  or  rather  the  relation 
of  wedlock  excludes  love  in  the  accepted  sense  of  the 
word ;  the  passion  is  almost  necessarily  illegitimate,  and 
it  comes  as  if  it  were  an  irresistible  fate ;  the  first  advance 
is  often  made  by  the  woman  ;  but,  though  at  war  with 
the  duty  of  wedlock,  love  is  conceived  as  an  ennobling 
influence,  prompting  the  knight  to  all  deeds  of  courage 
and  self-sacrifice.  Through  the  later  translation  of  the 
Spanish  Amadis  des  Gaules,  something  of  the  spirit  of  the 
mediaeval  romances  was  carried  into  the  chivalric  and 
pastoral  romances  of  the  seventeenth  century. 


CHAPTER  II 

LYRICAL  POETRY— FABLES,  AND  RENARD  THE 
FOX  — FABLIAUX  — THE  ROMANCE  OF  THE 

ROSE 

• 
I 

LYRICAL  POETRY 

LONG  before  the  date  of  any  lyrical  poems  that  have 
come  down  to  us,  song  and  dance  were  a  part  of  the 
life  of  the  people  of  the  North  as  well  as  of  the  South 
of  France  ;  religious  festivals  were  celebrated  with  a 
gaiety  which  had  its  mundane  side  ;  love  and  malicious 
sport  demanded  an  expression  as  well  as  pious  joy. 
But  in  tracing  the  forms  of  lyrical  verse  anterior  to  the 
middle  of  the  twelfth  century,  when  the  troubadour 
influence  from  the  South  began  to  be  felt,  we  must  be 
guided  partly  by  conjecture,  derived  from  the  later 
poetry,  in  which — and  especially  in  the  refrains — earlier 
fragments  have  been  preserved. 

The  common  characteristic  which  distinguishes  the 
earlier  lyrics  is  the  presence  in  them  of  an  objective 
element  :  they  do  not  merely  render  an  emotion  ;  they 
contain  something  of  a  story,  or  they  suggest  a  situation. 
In  this  literature  of  sentiment,  the  singer  or  imagined 
singer  is  commonly  a  woman.  The  chanson  d'histoire  is 
also  known  as  chanson  de  toile,  for  the  songs  were  such 

84 


VARIETIES  OF  SONG  25 

as  suited  "the  spinsters  and  the  knitters  in  the  sun." 
Their  inspiring  motive  was  a  girl's  joy  or  grief  in  love  ; 
they  lightly  outline  or  suggest  the  facts  of  a  miniature 
drama  of  passion,  and  are  aided  by  the  repeated  lyrical 
cry  of  a  refrain.  As  yet,  love  was  an  affair  for  the 
woman  ;  it  was  she  alone  who  made  a  confession  of 
the  heart.  None  of  these  poems  are  later  than  the 
close  of  the  twelfth  century.  If  the  author  be  re- 
presented as  actor  or  witness,  the  poem  is  rather  a 
chanson  a  personnagcs  than  a  chanson  d'histoire  ;  most 
frequently  it  is  a  wife  who  is  supposed  to  utter  to 
husband,  or  lover,  or  to  the  poet,  her  complaint  of  the 
grievous  servitude  of  marriage.  The  aube  is,  again,  a 
woman's  song,  uttered  as  a  parting  cry  when  the  lark 
at  daybreak,  or  the  watcher  from  his  tower,  warns  her 
lover  to  depart.  In  the  pastourelle — a  form  much  culti- 
vated— a  knight  and  a  shepherdess  meet ;  love  proposals 
are  made,  and  find  a  response  favourable  or  the  reverse  ; 
witnesses  or  companions  may  be  present,  and  take  a 
part  in  the  action.  The  rondet  is  a  dancing-song,  in 
which  the  refrain  corresponds  with  one  of  the  move- 
ments of  the  dance ;  a  solo-singer  is  answered  by  the 
response  of  a  chorus;  in  the  progress  of  time  the 
rondet  assumed  the  precise  form  of  the  modern  triolet ; 
the  theme  was  still  love,  at  first  treated  seriously  if  not 
tragically,  but  at  a  later  time  in  a  spirit  of  gaiety.  It 
is  conjectured  that  all  these  lyrical  forms  had  their 
origin  in  the  festivities  of  May,  when  the  return  of 
spring  was  celebrated  by  dances  in  which  women  alone 
took  part,  a  survival  from  the  pagan  rites  of  Venus. 

The  poesie  courtoise,  moulded  in  form  and  inspired  in 
its  sentiment  by  the  Provencal  lyrics,  lies  within  the 
compass  of  about  one  hundred  and  thirty  years,  from 


26  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

1150  to  1280.  The  Crusade  of  1147  served,  doubtless,  as 
a  point  of  meeting  for  men  of  the  North  and  of  the  South  ; 
but,  apart  from  this,  we  may  bear  in  mind  the  fact  that 
the  mediaeval  poet  wandered  at  will  from  country  to 
country  and  from  court  to  court.  In  1137,  Louis  VII. 
married  Eleonore  of  Aquitaine,  who  was  an  ardent  ad- 
mirer of  the  poetry  of  courtesy.  Her  daughters  inherited 
her  taste,  and  themselves  became  patronesses  of  literature 
at  the  courts  of  their  husbands,  Henri  de  Champagne 
and  Thibaut  de  Blois.  From  these  courts,  and  that  of 
Paris,  this  poetry  of  culture  spread,  and  the  earlier  singers 
were  persons  of  royal  or  noble  rank  and  birth.  The 
chief  period  of  its  cultivation  was  probably  from  1200  to 
1240.  During  the  half-century  before  its  sudden  cessa- 
tion, while  continuing  to  be  a  fashion  in  courts  and  high 
society,  it  reached  the  wealthy  bourgeoisie  of  the  North. 
At  Arras,  where  Jacques  Bretel  and  Adam  de  la  Halle, 
the  hunchback,  were  eminent  in  song,  it  had  its  latest 
moments  of  splendour. 

It  is  essentially  a  poetry  of  the  intellect  and  of  the 
imagination,  dealing  with  an  elaborated  theory  of  love  ; 
the  simple  and  spontaneous  cry  of  passion  is  rarely 
heard.  According  to  the  amorous  doctrine,  love  exists 
only  between  a  married  woman  and  the  aspirant  to  her 
heart,  and  the  art  of  love  is  regulated  by  a  stringent 
code.  Nothing  can  be  claimed  by  the  lover  as  a  right ; 
the  grace  of  his  lady,  who  is  placed  far  above  him,  must 
be  sought  as  a  favour  ;  for  that  favour  he  must  qualify 
himself  by  all  knightly  virtues,  and  chief  among  these,  as 
the  position  requires,  are  the  virtues  of  discretion  and 
patience.  Hence  the  poet's  ingenuities  of  adoration; 
hence  often  the  monotony  of  artificial  passion  ;  hence, 
also,  subtleties  and  curiosities  of  expression,  and  sought- 


METRICAL  FORMS  27 

out  delicacies  of  style.  In  the  earlier  chansons  some 
outbreak  of  instinctive  feeling  may  be  occasionally  pre- 
sent ;  but,  as  the  amorous  metaphysics  developed,  what 
came  to  be  admired  was  the  skill  shown  in  manipulating 
a  conventional  sentiment ;  the  lady  became  an  abstrac- 
tion of  exalted  beauty,  the  lover  an  interpreter  of  the 
theory  of  love  ;  the  most  personal  of  passions  lost  the 
character  of  individuality.  Occasionally,  as  in  the  poems 
of  the  Chatelain  de  Couci,  of  Conon  de  Bethune,  of 
Thibaut  de  Champagne,  and  of  Adam  de  la  Halie, 
something  personal  to  the  writer  may  be  discerned; 
but  in  general  the  poetry  is  that  of  a  doctrine  and  of 
a  school. 

In  some  instances  the  reputation  of  the  lyrical  trouvere 
was  founded  rather  on  his  music  than  his  verse.  The 
metrical  forms  were  various,  and  were  gradually  reduced 
to  rule  ;  the  ballette,  of  Provencal  origin,  was  a  more 
elaborate  rondet,  consisting  of  stanzas  and  refrain  ;  the 
cstampie  (stampon,  to  beat  the  ground  with  the  foot)  was 
a  dancing-song  ;  the  lyric  /at,  virtually  identical  with 
the  descort,  consisted  of  stanzas  which  varied  in  struc- 
ture ;  the  motet,  a  name  originally  applied  to  pieces 
of  church  music,  was  freer  in  versification,  and  occa- 
sionally dealt  with  popular  themes.  Among  forms 
which  cannot  be  included  under  the  general  title 
of  chansons,  are  those  in  dialogue  derived  from  the 
Provencal  literature  ;  in  the  tenson  or  debat  the  two 
interlocutors  put  forth  their  opinions  on  what  theme 
they  may  please  ;  in  the  jeu  parti  one  of  the  imagined 
disputants  proposes  two  contrary  solutions  of  some 
poetical  or  amorous  question,  and  defends  whichever 
solution  his  associate  refuses  to  accept;  the  earliest  jeu 
parti,  attributed  to  Gace  Bruld  and  Count  Geoffroi  of 


28  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

Brittany,  belongs  to  the  second  half  of  the  twelfth 
century.  The  serventois  were  historical  poems,  and 
among  them  songs  of  the  crusades,  or  moral,  or  re- 
ligious, or  satirical  pieces,  directed  against  woman  and 
the  worship  of  woman.  To  these  various  species  we 
should  add  the  songs  in  honour  of  the  saints,  the  sor- 
rows of  the  Virgin  uttered  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  and 
other  devout  lyrics  which  lie  outside  the  po/sie  courtoise. 
With  the  close  of  the  thirteenth  century  this  fashion  of 
artificial  love  -  lyric  ceased  :  a  change  passed  over  the 
modes  of  thought  and  feeling  in  aristocratic  society, 
and  other  forms  took  the  place  of  those  found  in  the 
pofcie  courtoise. 

II 

FABLES  AND  RENARD  THE  Fox 

The  desire  of  ecclesiastical  writers  in  the  Middle  Ages 
to  give  prominence  to  that  part  of  classical  literature 
which  seemed  best  suited  to  the  purpose  of  edification 
caused  the  fables  of  Phaedrus  and  Avianus  to  be  re- 
garded with  special  honour.  Various  renderings  from 
the  thirteenth  century  onwards  were  made  under  the 
title  of  Isopets,1  a  name  appropriated  to  collections  of 
fables  whether  derived  from  ^sop  or  from  other  sources. 
The  twelfth-century  fables  in  verse  of  Marie  de  France, 
founded  on  an  English  collection,  include  apologues 
derived  not  only  from  classical  authors  but  from  the 
tales  of  popular  tradition.  A  great  collection  made 
about  1450  by  Steinhcewel,  a  physician  of  Ulm,  was 

1  The  earlier  "Romulus"  was  the  name  of  the  supposed  author  of  the 
fables  of  Phsedrus,  while  that  of  Phsedrus  was  still  unknown. 


RENARD  THE   FOX  29 

translated  into  French,  and  became  the  chief  source  of 
later  collections,  thus  appearing  in  the  remote  ancestry 
of  the  work  of  La  Fontaine.  The  aesthetic  value  of  the 
mediaeval  fables,  including  those  of  Marie  de  France,  is 
small ;  the  didactic  intention  was  strong,  the  literary  art 
was  feeble. 

It  is  far  otherwise  with  the  famous  beast-epic,  the 
ROMAN  DE  RENARD.  The  cycle  consists  of  many 
parts  or  "branches"  connected  by  a  common  theme; 
originating  and  obscurely  developed  in  the  North,  in 
Picardy,  in  Normandy,  and  the  Isle  of  France,  it 
suddenly  appeared  in  literature  in  the  middle  of  the 
twelfth  century,  and  continued  to  receive  additions 
and  variations  during  nearly  two  hundred  years.  The 
spirit  of  the  Renard  poems  is  essentially  bourgeois ;  the 
heroes  of  the  chansons  de  geste  achieve  their  wondrous 
deeds  by  strength  and  valour  ;  Renard  the  fox  is  power- 
ful by  skill  and  cunning  ;  the  greater  beasts — his  chief 
enemy  the  wolf,  and  others  —  are  no  match  for  his 
ingenuity  and  endless  resources ;  but  he  is  power- 
less against  smaller  creatures,  the  cock,  the  crow,  the 
sparrow.  The  names  of  the  personages  are  either^  sig- 
nificant names,  such  as  Noble,  the  lion,  and  Chanticleer, 
the  cock,  or  proper  names,  such  as  Isengrin,  the  wolf, 
Bruno,  the  bear,  Tibert,  the  cat,  Bernard,  the  ass  ;  and 
as  certain  of  these  proper  names  are  found  in  the  eastern 
district,  it  has  been  conjectured  that  a  poet  of  Lotharingia 
in  the  tenth  century  first  told  in  Latin  the  wars  of  fox 
and  wolf,  and  that  through  translations  the  epic  matter, 
derived  originally  trom  popular  tradition,  reached  the 
trouveres  of  the  North.  While  in  a  certain  degree 
typical  figures,  the  beasts  are  at  the  same  time  individual  ; 
Renard  is  not  the  representative  merely  of  a  species  ;  he 


30  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

is  Renard,  an  individual,  with  a  personality  of  his  own  ; 
Isengrin  is  not  merely  a  wolf,  he  is  the  particular  wolf 
Isengrin ;  each  is  an  epic  individual,  heroic  and  un- 
dying. Classical^  fable  remotely  exerted  an  influence 
on  certain  branches  of  the  Romance  ;  but  the  vital 
substance  of  the  epic  is  derived  from  the  stores  of 
popular  tradition  iii  which  material  from  all  quarters 
— the  North  of  Europe  and  the  Eastern  world — had 
been  gradually  fused.  In  the  artistic  treatment  of  such 
material  the  chief  difficulty  lies  in  preserving  a  just 
measure  between  the  beast-character  and  the  imported 
element  of  humanity.  Little  by  little  the  anthropo- 
morphic features  were  developed  at  the  expense  of  veri- 
similitude ;  the  beast  forms  became  a  mere  masquerade  ; 
the  romances  were  converted  into  a  satire,  and  the  satire 
lost  rather  than  gained  by  the  inefficient  disguise. 

The  earliest  branches  of  the  cycle  have  reached  us  only 
in  a  fragmentary  way,  but  they  can  be  in  part  recon- 
structed from  the  Latin  Isengrinus  of  Nivard  of  Ghent 
(about  1150),  and  from  the  German  Reinhart  Fucks,  a 
rendering  from  the  French  by  an  Alsatian,  Henri  le 
Glichezare  (about  1180).  The  wars  of  Renard  and  Isen- 
grin are  here  sung,  and  the  failure  of  Renard's  trickeries 
against  the  lesser  creatures ;  the  spirit  of  these  early 
branches  is  one  of  frank  gaiety,  untroubled  by  a  didactic 
or  satirical  intention.  In  the  branches  of  the  second 
period  the  parody  of  human  society  is  apparent ;  some 
of  the  episodes  are  fatiguing  in  their  details ;  some  are 
intolerably  gross,  but  the  poem  known  as  the  Branch  of 
the  Judgment  is  masterly — an  ironical  comedy,  in  which, 
without  sacrifice  of  the  primitive  character  of  the  beast- 
epic,  the  spirit  of  mediaeval  life  is  transported  into  the 
animal  world.  Isengrin,  the  accuser  of  Renard  before 


DECLINE  OF  RENARD  ROMANCES  31 

King  Noble  and  his  court,  is  for  a  moment  worsted  ;  the 
fox  is  vindicated,  when  suddenly  enters  a  funeral  cortege — 
Chanticleer  and  his  four  wives  bear  upon  a  litter  the  dead 
body  of  one  of  their  family,  the  victim  of  Renard's  wiles. 
The  prayers  for  the  dead  are  recited,  the  burial  is  cele- 
brated with  due  honour,  and  Renard  is  summoned  to 
justice  ;  lie  heaped  upon  lie  will  not  save  him  ;  at  last  he 
humbles  himself  with  pious  repentance,  and  promising  to 
seek  God's  pardon  over-sea,  is  permitted  in  his  pilgrim's 
habit  to  quit  the  court.  It  is  this  Judgment  of  Renard 
which  formed  the  basis  of  the  Reineke  Fuchs,  known  to 
us  through  the  modernisation  of  Goethe. 

From  the  date  of  the  Branch  of  the  Judgment  the 
Renard  Romances  declined.  The  Judgment  was  imitated 
by  inferior  hands,  and  the  beasts  were  more  and  more 
nearly  transformed  to  men  ;  the  spirit  of  gaiety  was  re- 
placed by  seriousness  or  gloom  •  Renard  ceased  to  be  a 
light-footed  and  ingenious  rogue  ;  he  became  a  type  of 
human  fraud  and  cruelty  ;  whatever  in  society  was  false 
and  base  and  merciless  became  a  form  of  "renardie," 
and  by  "  renardie  "  the  whole  world  seemed  to  be  ruled. 
Such  is  the  temper  expressed  in  Le  Couronnement  Renard, 
written  in  Flanders  soon  after  1250,  a  satire  directed 
chiefly  against  the  mendicant  orders,  in  which  the  fox, 
turned  friar  for  a  season,  ascends  the  throne.  Renard 
le  Nouveau,  the  work  of  a  poet  of  Lille,  Jacquemart  Gelee, 
nearly  half  a  century  later,  represents  again  the  triumph 
of  the  spirit  of  evil ;  although  far  inferior  in  execution  to 
the  Judgment,  it  had  remarkable  success,  to  which  the 
allegory,  wrearying  to  a  modern  reader,  no  doubt  contri- 
buted at  a  time  when  allegory  was  a  delight.  The  last 
of  the  Renard  romances,  Renard  le  Contrefait,  was  com- 
posed at  Troyes  before  1328,  by  an  ecclesiastic  who  had 


32  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

renounced  his  profession  and  turned  to  trade.  In  his 
leisure  hours  he  spun,  in  discipleship  to  Jean  de  Meun, 
,his  interminable  poem,  which  is  less  a  romance  than  an 
encyclopedia  of  all  the  knowledge  and  all  the  opinions 
of  the  author.  This  latest  Renard  has  a  value  akin  to 
that  of  the  second  part  of  Le  Roman  de  la  Rose ;  it  is 
a  presentation  of  the  ideas  and -manners  of  the  time  by 
one  who  freely  criticised  and  mocked  the  powers  that  be, 
both  secular  and  sacred,  and  who  was  in  sympathy  with 
a  certain  movement  or  tendency  towards  social,  political, 
and  intellectual  reform. 


Ill 

FABLIAUX 

The  name  fabliaux  is  applied  to  short  versified  talcs, 
comic  in  character,  and  intended  rather  for  recitation 
than  for  song.  Out  of  a  far  larger  number  about  one 
hundred  and  fifty  have  survived.  The  earliest — Richeut 
— is  of  the  year  1159.  From  the  middle  of  the  twelfth 
century,  together  with  the  heroic  or  sentimental  poetry 
of  feudalism,  we  find  this  bourgeois  poetry  of  realistic 
observation  ;  and  even  in  the  chansons  de  geste,  in  occa- 
sional comic  episodes,  something  may  be  seen  which  is 
in  close  kinship  with  the  fabliaux.  Many  brief  humorous 
stories,  having  much  in  common  under  their  various  dis- 
guises, exist  as  part  of  the  tradition  of  many  lands  and 
peoples.  The  theory  which  traces  the  French  fabliaux 
to  Indian  originals  is  unproved,  and  indeed  is  unneces- 
sary. The  East,  doubtless,  contributed  its  quota  to  the 
common  stock,  but  so  did  other  quarters  of  the  globe  ; 
such  tales  are  ubiquitous  and  are  undying,  only  the 


THE  FABLIAUX  33 

particular  form  which  they  assume  being  determined 
by  local  conditions. 

The  fabliaux,  as  we  can  study  them,  belong  espe- 
cially to  the  north  and  north-east  of  France,  and  they 
continued  to  be  put  forth  by  their  rhymers  until  about 
1340,  the  close  of  the  twelfth  and  the  beginning  of  the 
thirteenth  century  being  the  period  of  their  greatest 
popularity.  Simple  and  obvious  jests  sufficed  to  raise 
a  laugh  among  folk  disposed  to  good  humour  ;  by  de- 
grees something  of  art  and  skill  was  attained.  The  mis- 
fortunes of  husbands  supplied  an  inexhaustible  store 
of  merriment ;  if  woman  and  the  love  of  woman  were 
idealised  in  the  romances,  the  fabliaux  took  their  revenge, 
and  exhibited  her  as  the  pretty  traitress  of  a  shameless 
comedy.  If  religion  was  honoured  in  the  age  of  faith, 
the  bourgeois  spirit  found  matter  of  mirth  in  the 
adventures  of  dissolute  priests  and  self-indulgent  monks. 
Not  a  few  of  the  fabliaux  are  cynically  gross — ribald 
but  not  voluptuous.  To  literary  distinction  they  made 
small  pretence.  It  sufficed  if  the  tale  ran  easily  in  the 
current  speech,  thrown  into  rhyming  octosyllables  ;  but 
brevity,  frankness,  natural  movement  are  no  slight  or 
common  merits  in  mediaeval  poetry,  and  something  of 
the  social  life  of  the  time  is  mirrored  in  these  humorous 
narratives. 

To  regard  them  as  a  satire  of  class  against  class,  in- 
spired by  indignation,  is  to  misconceive  their  true  char- 
acter ;  they  are  rather  miniature  comedies  or  caricatures, 
in  which  every  class  in  turn  provides  material  for  mirth. 
It  may,  however,  be  said  that  with  the  writers  of  the 
fabliaux  to  hold  woman  in  scorn  is  almost  an  article  of 
faith.  Among  these  writers  a  few  persons  of  secular 
rank  or  dignified  churchmen  occasionally  appeared  ;  but 


34  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

what  \ve  may  call  the  professional  rhymers  and  reciters 
were  the  humbler  jongleurs  addressing  a  bourgeois  audi- 
ence—  degraded  clerics,  unfrocked  monks,  wandering 
students,  who  led  a  bohemian  life  of  gaiety  alternating 
with  misery.  In  the  early  part  of  the  fourteenth  century 
these  errant  jongleurs  ceased  to  be  esteemed  ;  the  great 
lord  attached  a  minstrel  to  his  household,  and  poetry 
grew  more  dignified,  more  elaborate  in  its  forms,  more 
edifying  in  its  intention,  and  in  its  dignity  grew  too  often 
dull.  Still  for  a  time  fabliaux  were  written ;  but  the  age 
of  the  jongleurs  was  over.  Virelais,  rondeaux,  ballades, 
chants  royaux  were  the  newer  fashion  ;  and  the  old  versi- 
fied tale  of  mirth  and  ribaldry  was  by  the  middle  of 
the  century  a  thing  of  the  past. 


IV 
THE  ROMANCE  OF  THE  ROSE 

The  most  extraordinary  production  in  verse  of  the 
thirteenth  century  is  undoubtedly  Le  Roman  de  la  Rose. 
It  is  indeed  no  single  achievement,  but  two  very  re- 
markable poems,  written  at  two  different  periods,  by 
two  authors  whose  characters  and  gifts  were  not  only 
alien,  but  opposed — two  poems  which  reflect  two  dif- 
ferent conditions  of  society.  Of  its  twenty-two  thousand 
octosyllabic  lines,  upwards  of  four  thousand  are  the  work 
of  GUILLAUME  DE  LORRIS  ;  the  remainder  is  the  work  of 
a  later  writer,  JEAN  DE  MEUN. 

Lorris  is  a  little  town  situated  between  Orleans  and 
Montargis.  Here,  about  the  year  1200,  the  earlier  poet 
was  born.  He  was  a  scholar,  at  least  as  far  as  knowledge 
of  Latin  extends,  and  learned  above  all  in  the  lore  of 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  THE  ROSE  35 

love.  He  died  young,  probably  before  1230,  and  during 
the  five  years  that  preceded  his  death  the  first  part  of 
Le  Roman  de  la  Rose  was  composed.  Its  subject  is  an 
allegorised  tale  of  love,  his  own  or  imagined,  transferred 
to  the  realm  of  dreams.  The  writer  would  fain  win  the 
heart  of  his  beloved,  and  at  the  same  time  he  would 
instruct  all  amorous  spirits  in  the  art  of  love.  He  is 
twenty  years  of  age,  in  the  May-morn  of  youth.  He 
has  beheld  his  beautiful  lady,  and  been  charmed  by  her 
fairness,  her  grace,  her  courtesy ;  she  has  received  him 
with  gentleness,  but  when  he  declares  his  love  she  grows 
alarmed.  He  gains  at  last  the  kiss  which  tells  of  her 
affection  ;  but  her  parents  intervening,  throw  obstacles 
between  the  lovers.  Such,  divested  of  ornament,  alle- 
gory, and  personification,  is  the  theme  of  the  poem. 

To  pluck  the  rose  in  the  garden  of  delight  is  to  win 
the  maiden  ;  her  fears,  her  virgin  modesty  and  pride, 
her  kindness,  her  pity,  are  the  company  of  friends  or 
foes  by  whom  the  rose  is  surrounded  ;  and  to  harmonise 
the  real  and  the  ideal,  all  the  incidents  are  placed  in  the 
setting  of  a  dream.  Wandering  one  spring  morning  by 
the  river-banks,  the  dreamer  finds  himself  outside  the 
walls  of  a  fair  orchard,  owned  by  Deduit  (Pleasure),  of 
which  the  portress  is  Oiseuse  (Idleness)  ;  on  the  walls 
are  painted  figures  of  Hatred,  Envy,  Sadness,  Old  Age, 
Poverty,  and  other  evil  powers  ;  but  unterrified  by  these, 
he  enters,  and  finds  a  company  of  dancers  on  the  turf, 
among  whom  is  Beauty,  led  by  the  god  of  Love.  Sur- 
rounded by  a  thorny  hedge  is  the  rosebud  on  which 
all  his  desire  now  centres.  He  is  wounded  by  the 
arrows  of  Love,  does  homage  to  the  god,  and  learns 
his  commandments  and  the  evils  and  the  gains  of  love. 
Invited  by  Bel-Accueil,  the  son  of  Courtoisie,  to  ap- 


36  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

proach  the  rose,  he  is  driven  back  by  Danger  and  his 
companions,  the  guardians  of  the  blossom.  Raison 
descends  from  a  tower  .and  discourses  against  the 
service  of  Love  ;  Ami  offers  his  consolations ;  at  length 
the  lover  is  again  admitted  to  the  flowery  precinct, 
finds  his  rosebud  half  unclosed,  and  obtains  the  joy  of 
a  kiss.  But  Jealousy  raises  an  unscalable  wall  around 
the  rose  ;  the  serviceable  Bel-Accueil  is  imprisoned,  and 
with  a  long  lament  of  the  lover,  the  poem  (line  4068) 
closes. 

Did  Guillaume  de  Lorris  ever  complete  his  poem,  or 
•did  he  die  while  it  was  still  but  half  composed  ?  We 
may  conjecture  that  it  wanted  liAle  to  reach  some 
denouement  —  perhaps  the  fulfilment  of  the  lover's 
hopes  ;  and  it  is  not  impossible  that  a  lost  fragment 
actually  brought  the  love-tale  to  its  issue.  But  even 
if  the  story  remained  without  an  end,  we  possess  in 
Guillaume's  poem  a  complete  medieval  Art  of  Love  ; 
and  if  the  amorous  metaphysics  are  sometimes  cold, 
conventional,  or  laboured,  we  have  gracious  allegories, 
pieces  of  brilliant  description,  vivid  personifications,  and 
something  of  ingenious  analysis  of  human  passion. 
Nevertheless  the  work  of  this  Middle-Age  disciple  of 
Ovid  and  of  Chretien  de  Troyes  owes  more  than  half 
its  celebrity  to  the  continuation,  conceived  in  an  entirely 
opposite  spirit,  by  his  successor,  Jean  de  Meun. 

The  contrast  is  striking  :  Guillaume  de  Lorris  was  a 
refined  and  graceful  exponent  of  the  conventional  doc- 
trine of  love,  a  seemly  celebrant  in  the  cult  of  woman, 
an  ingenious  decorator  of  accepted  ideas  ;  Jean  de  Meun 
was  a  passionate  and  positive  spirit,  an  ardent  speculator, 
in  social,  political,  and  scientific  questions,  one  who  cared 
nothing  for  amorous  subtleties,  and  held  woman  in  scorn. 


JEAN  DE  MEUN  37 

Guillaume  addressed  an  aristocratic  audience,  imbued 
with  the  sentiments  of  chivalry ;  Jean  was  a  bourgeois, 
eager  to  instruct,  to  arouse,  to  inflame  his  fellows  in  a 
multitude  of  matters  which  concerned  the  welfare  of 
their  lives.  He  was  little  concerned  for  the  lover  and 
his  rose,  but  was  deeply  interested  in  the  condition  of 
society,  the  corruptions  of  religion,  the  advance  of  know- 
ledge. He  turned  from  ideals  which  seemed  spurious 
to  reason  and  to  nature  ;  he  had  read  widely  in  Latin 
literature,  and  found'  much  that  suited  his  mood  and 
mind  in  Boethius'  De  Consolations  PhilosopJiia  and  in 
the  De  Planctu  Natures  of  the  "universal  doctor"  of  the 
twelfth  century,  Alain  de  Lille,  from  each  of  which  he 
conveyed  freely  into  his  poem.  Of  his  life  we  know 
little ;  Jean  Clopinel  was  born  at  Meun  on  the  Loire 
about  the  year  1240  ;  he  died  before  the  close  of  1305  ; 
his  continuation  of  Guillaume's  Roman  was  made  about 
1270.  His  later  poems,  a  Testament,  in  which  he  warned 
and  exhorted  his  contemporaries  of  every  class,  the 
Codicille,  which  incited  to  almsgiving,  and  his  numerous 
translations,  prove  the  unabated  energy  of  his  mind  in 
his  elder  years. 

The  rose  is  plucked  by  the  lover  in  the  end ;  but  lover 
and  rose  are  almost  forgotten  in  Jean's  zeal  in  setting 
forth  his  views  of  life,  and  in  forming  an  encyclopaedia 
of  the  knowledge  of  his  time.  Reason  discourses  on  the 
dangers  of  passion,  commends  friendship  or  universal 
philanthropy  as  wiser  than  love,  warns  against  the  in- 
stability of  fortune  and  the  deceits  of  riches,  and  sets 
charity  high  above  justice  ;  if  love  be  commendable,  it 
is  as  the  device  of  nature  for  the  continuation  of  the 
species.  The  way  to  win  wqman  and  to  keep  her  loyalty 
is  now  the  unhappy  way  of  squandered  largess;  formerly 


38  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

it  was  not  so  in  the  golden  age  of  equality,  before  pri- 
vate property  was  known,  when  all  men  held  in  common 
the  goods  of  the  earth,  and  robber  kings  were  evils  of 
the  future.  The  god  of  Love  and  his  barons,  with  the 
hypocrite  monk  Faux-Semblant — a  bitter  satirist  of  the 
mendicant  orders  —  besiege  the  tower  in  which  Bel- 
Accueil  is  imprisoned,  and  by  force  and  fraud  an 
entrance  is  effected.  The  old  beldame,  who  watches 
over  the  captive,  is  corrupted  by  promises  and  gifts,  and 
frankly  exposes  her  own  iniquities  and  those  of  her  sex. 
War  is  waged  against  the  guardians  of  the  rose,  Venus, 
sworn  enemy  of  chastity,  aiding  the  assailants.  Nature, 
devoted  to  the  continuance  of  the  race,  mourns  over 
the  violation  of  her  laws  by  man,  unburdens  herself  of 
all  her  scientific  lore  in  a  confession  to  her  chaplain 
Ge'nius,  and  sends  him  forth  to  encourage  the  lover's 
party  with  a  bold  discourse  against  the  crime  of  virginity. 
The  triumph  of  the  lover  closes  the  poem. 

The  graceful  design  of  the  earlier  poet  is  disregarded; 
the  love-story  becomes  a  mere  frame  for  setting  forth  the 
views  of  Jean  de  Meun,  his  criticism  of  the  chivalric 
ideal,  his  satire  upon  the  monkish  vices,  his  revolutionary 
notions  respecting  property  and  government,  his  advanced 
opinions  in  science,  his  frank  realism  as  to  the  relations 
of  man  and  woman.  He  possesses  all  the  learning  of  his 
time,  and  an  accomplished  judgment  in  the  literature 
which  he  had  studied.  He  is  a  powerful  satirist,  and 
passages  of  narrative  and  description  show  that  he  had  a 
poet's  feeling  for  beauty  ;  he  handles  the  language  with 
the  strength  and  skill  of  a  master.  On  the  other  hand, 
he  lacks  all  sense  of  proportion,  and  cannot  shape  an 
imaginative  plan  ;  his  prolixity  wearies  the  reader,  and  it 
cannot  be  denied  that  as  a  moral  reformer  he  some- 


INFLUENCE  OF  THE  ROMANCE  39 

times  topples  into  immorality.  The  success  of  the  poem 
was  extraordinary,  and  extended  far  beyond  France. 
It  was  attacked  and  defended,  and  up  to  the  time  of 
Ronsard  its  influence  on  the  progress  of  literature — en- 
couraging, as  it  did,  to  excess  the  art  of  allegory  and 
personification — if  less  than  has  commonly  been  alleged, 
was  unquestionably  important 


CHAPTER  III 

DIDACTIC  LITERATURE— SERMONS— HISTORY 

I 
DIDACTIC  LITERATURE 

THE  didactic  literature,  moral  and  scientific,  of  the  Middle 
Ages  is  abundant,  and  possesses  much  curious  interest, 
but  it  is  seldom  original  in  substance,  and  seldom  valu- 
able from  the  point  of  view  of  literary  style.  In  great 
part  it  is  translated  or  derived  from  Latin  sources.  The 
writers  were  often  clerks  or  laymen  who  had  turned 
from  the  vanities  of  youth — fabliau  or  romance — and 
now  aimed  at  edification  or  instruction.  Science  in  the 
hands  of  the  clergy  must  needs  be  spiritualised  and 
moralised  ;  there  were  sermons  to  be  found  in  stones, 
pious  allegories  in  beast  and  bird ;  mystic  meanings  in 
the  alphabet,  in  grammar,  in  the  chase,  in  the  tourney, 
in  the  game  of  chess.  Ovid  and  Virgil  were  sanctified  to 
religious  uses.  The  earliest  versified  Bestiary,  which  is 
also  a  Volucrary,  a  Herbary,  and  a  Lapidary,  that  of 
Philippe  de  Thaon  (before  1135),  is  versified  from  the 
Latin  Physiologus,  itself  a  translation  from  the  work  of  an 
Alexandrian  Greek  of  the  second  century.  In  its  symbolic 
zoology  the  lion  and  the  pelican  are  emblems  of  Christ ; 
the  unicorn  is  God;  the  crocodile  is  the  devil;  the  stones 
"  turrobolen,"  which  blaze  when  they  approach  each 


SCIENCE,  MORALS,  AND   MANNERS          41 

other,  are  representative  of  man  and  woman.  A  Bestiaire 
d  Amour  was  written  by  Richard  de  Fournival,  in  which 
the  emblems  serve  for  the  interpretation  of  human  love. 
A  Lapidary,  with  a  medical — not  a  moral — purpose,  by 
Marbode,  Bishop  of  Rennes,  was  translated  more  than 
once  into  French,  and  had,  indeed,  an  European  fame. 

Bestiaries  and  Lapidaries  form  parts  of  the  vast  ency- 
clopaedias, numerous  in  the  thirteenth  century,  which 
were  known  by  such  names  as  Image  du  Monde,  Mappe- 
monde,  Miroir  du  Monde.  Of  these  encyclopaedias,  the 
only  one  which  has  a  literary  interest  is  the  Trtsor  (1265), 
by  Dante's  master,  Brunetto  Latini,  who  wrote  in  French 
in  preference  to  his  native  Italian.  In  it  science  escapes 
not  wholly  from  fantasy  and  myth,  but  at  least  from  the 
allegorising  spirit;  his  ethics  and  rhetoric  are  derived 
from  Latin  originals ;  his  politics  are  his  own.  The 
Somme  des  Vices  et  des  Vertus,  compiled  in  1279  by 
Friar  Lorens,  is  a  well-composed  tresor  of  religion  and 
morals.  Part  of  its  contents  has  become  familiar  to  us 
through  the  Canterbury  discourse  of  Chaucer's  parson. 
The  moral  experience  of  a  man  of  the  world  is  summed 
up  in  the  prose  treatise  on  "The  Four  Ages  of  Man," 
by  Philippe  de  Novare,  chancellor  of  Cyprus.  With 
this  edifying  work  may  be  grouped  the  so-called  C/ias- 
tiementSj  counsels  on  education  and  conduct,  designed 
for  readers  in  general  or  for  some  special  class  — 
women,  children,  persons  of  knightly  or  of  humble 
rank ;  studies  of  the  virtues  of  chivalry,  the  rules  of 
courtesy  and  of  manners.1  Other  writings',  the  £tats  du 

1  Two  works  of  the  fourteenth  century,  interesting  in  the  history  of  manners 
and  ideas,  may  here  be  mentioned — the  Livre  du  Chevalier  de  la  Tour-Landry 
(1372),  composed  for  the  instruction  of  the  writer's  daughters,  and  the  Menagier 
de  Paris,  a  treatise  on  domestic  economy,  written  by  a  Parisian  bourgeois  for 
the  use  of  his  young  wife. 


42  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

Monde,  present  a  view  of  the  various  classes  of  society 
from  a  standpoint  ethical,  religious,  or  satirical,  with 
warnings  and  exhortations,  which  commonly  conclude 
with  a  vision  of  the  last  judgment  and  the  pains  of  hell. 
With  such  a  scene  of  terror  closes  the  interesting  Pohne 
Moral  of  Etienne  de  Fougeres,  in  which  the  life  of  St. 
Moses,  the  converted  robber,  serves  as  an  example  to 
monks,  and  that  of  the  converted  Thai's  to  ladies  who 
are  proud  of  their  beauty.  Its  temper  of  moderation 
contrasts  with  the  bitter  satire  in  the  Bible  by  Guiot  de 
Provins,  and  with  many  shorter  satirical  pieces  directed 
against  clerical  vices  or  the  infirmities  of  woman.  The 
Besant  de  Dieu,  by  Guillaume  le  Clerc,  a  Norman  poet 
(1227),  preaches  in  verse,  with  eloquence  and  imaginative 
power,  the  love  of  God  and  contempt  of  the  world  from 
the  texts  of  two  Scripture  parables — that  of  the  Talents 
and  that  of  the  Bridegroom  ;  Guillaume  anticipates  the 
approaching  end  of  the  world,  foreshown  by  wars, 
pestilence,  and  famine,  condemns  in  the  spirit  of 
Christian  charity  the  persecution  of  the  Albigenses,  and 
mourns  over  the  shame  that  has  befallen  the  Holy 
Sepulchre. 

Among  the  preacher  poets  of  the  thirteenth  century 
the  most  interesting  personally  is  the  minstrel  RUTEBEUF, 
who  towards  the  close  of  his  gay  though  ragged  life  turned 
to  serious  thoughts,  and  expressed  his  penitent  feelings 
with  penetrating  power.  Rutebeuf,  indeed — the  Villon 
of  his  age — deployed  his  vivid  and  ardent  powers  in  many 
directions,  as  a  writer  of  song  and  satire,  of  allegory, 
of  fabliaux,  of  drama.  On  each  and  all  he  impressed 
his  own  personality;  the  lyric  note,  imaginative  fire, 
colour,  melody,  these  were  gifts  that  compensated  the 
poet's  poverty,  his  conjugal  miseries,  his  lost  eye,  his 


RELIGIOUS  ALLEGORY  43 

faithless  friends,  his  swarming  adversaries.  The  per- 
sonification of  vices  and  virtues,  occasional  in  the 
Besant  and  other  poems,  becomes  a  system  in  the 
Songe  cFEnfer,  a  pilgrim's  progress  to  hell,  and  the  Vote 
de  Paradis,  a  pilgrim's  progress  to  heaven,  by  Raoul 
de  Houdan  (after  1200).  The  Pelerinage  de  la  Vie 
Humaine — another  "way  to  Paradise";  the  Pelerinage 
de  I' Ame  —  a  vision  of  hell,  purgatory,  and  heaven; 
and  the  Pelerinage  de  Jesus-Christ  —  a  narrative  of  the 
Saviour's  life,  by  Guillaume  de  Digulleville  (fourteenth 
century),  have  been  imagined  by  some  to  have  been 
among  the  sources  of  Bunyan's  allegories.  Human  life 
may  be  represented  in  one  aspect  as  a  pilgrimage ; 
in  another  it  is  a  knightly  encounter  ;  there  is  a  great 
strife  between  the  powers  of  good  and  evil ;  in  Le 
Tornoiement  A  ntecrist,  by  Huon  de  Meri,  Jesus  and  the 
Knights  of  the  Cross,  among  whom,  besides  St.  Michael, 
St.  Gabriel,  Confession,  Chastity,  and  Alms,  are  Arthur, 
Launcelot,  and  Gawain,  contend  against  Antichrist  and 
the  infernal  barons — Jupiter,  Neptune,  Beelzebub,  and  a 
crowd  of  allegorical  personages.  But  the  battles  and 
debats  of  a  chivalric  age  were  not  only  religious ;  there 
are  battles  of  wine  and  water,  battles  of  fast  and  feasting, 
battles  of  the  seven  arts.  A  disputation  between  the 
body  and  the  soul,  a  favourite  subject  for  separate  treat- 
ment by  mediaeval  poets,  is  found  also  in  one  of  the  many 
sermons  in  verse  ;  the  Debat  des  Trois  Marts  et  des  Trois 
Vifs  recalls  the  subject  of  the  memorable  painting  in 
the  Campo  Santo  at  Pisa. 


44  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

II 

SERMONS 

The  Latin  sermons  of  the  Middle  Ages  were  count- 
less; but  it  is  not  until  Gerson  and  the  close  of  the 
fourteenth  century  that  we  find  a  series  of  discourses  by 
a  known  preacher  written  and  pronounced  in  French. 
It  is  maintained  that  these  Latin  sermons,  though  pre- 
pared in  the  language  of  the  Church,  were  delivered, 
when  addressed  to  lay  audiences,  in  the  vernacular,  and 
that  those  composite  sermons  in  the  macaronic  style,  that 
is,  partly  in  French,  partly  in  Latin,  which  appear  in  the 
thirteenth  century  and  are  frequent  in  the  fifteenth,  were 
the  work  of  reporters  or  redactors  among  the  auditory. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  is  argued  that  both  Latin  and  French 
sermons  were  pronounced  as  each  might  seem  suitable, 
before  the  laity,  and  that  the  macaronic  style  was  actually 
practised  in  the  pulpit.  Perhaps  we  may  accept  the 
opinion  that  the  short  and  simple  homilies  designed  for 
the  people,  little  esteemed  as  compositions,  were  rarely 
thought  worthy  of  preservation  in  a  Latin  form;  those 
discourses  which  remain  to  us,  if  occasionally  used 
before  an  unlearned  audience,  seem  to  have  been 
specially  intended  for  clerkly  hearers.  The  sermons  of 
St.  Bernard,  which  have  been  preserved  in  Latin  and  in 
a  French  translation  of  the  thirteenth  century,  were  cer- 
tainly not  his  eloquent  popular  improvisations ;  they 
are  doctrinal,  with  crude  or  curious  allegorisings  of 
Holy  Scripture.  Those  of  Maurice  de  Sully,  Arch- 
bishop of  Paris,  probably  also  translated  from  the  Latin, 
are  simpler  in  manner  and  more  practical  in  their  teach- 


MEDIEVAL  SERMONS  45 

ing ;  but  in  these  characteristics  they  stand  apart  from 
the  other  sermons  of  the  twelfth  century. 

It  was  not  until  the  mendicant  orders,  Franciscans  and 
Dominicans,  began  their  labours  that  preaching,  as  pre- 
served to  us,  was  truly  laicised  and  popularised.  During 
the  thirteenth  century  the  work  of  the  pulpit  came  to  be 
conceived  as  an  art  which  could  be  taught ;  collections 
of  anecdotes  and  illustrations — exempla — for  the  enliven- 
ing of  sermons,  manuals  for  the  use  of  preachers  were 
formed  ;  rules  and  precepts  were  set  forth  ;  themes  for 
popular  discourse  were  proposed  and  enlarged  upon, 
until  at  length  original  thought  and  invention  ceased  ; 
the  preacher's  art  was  turned  into  an  easy  trade.  The 
effort  to  be  popular  often  resulted  in  pulpit  buffoonery. 
When  GERSON  preached  at  court  or  to  the  people  towards 
the  close  of  the  fourteenth  century,  gravely  exhorting 
high  and  low  to  practical  duties,  with  tender  or  passionate 
appeals  to  religious  feeling,  his  sermons  were  noble  excep- 
tions to  the  common  practice.  And  the  descent  from 
Gerson  to  even  his  more  eminent  successors  is  swift  and 
steep.  The  orators  of  the  pulpit  varied  their  discourse 
from  burlesque  mirth  or  bitter  invective  to  gross  terrors, 
in  which  death  and  judgment,  Satan  and  hell-fire  were 
largely  displayed.  The  sermons  of  Michel  Menot  and 
Olivier  Maillard,  sometimes  eloquent  in  their  censure  of 
sin,  sometimes  trivial  or  grotesque,  sometimes  pedantic 
in  their  exhibition  of  learning,  have  at  least  an  historical 
value  in  presenting  an  image  of  social  life  in  the  fifteenth 
century. 

A  word  must  be  said  of  the  humanism  which  preceded 
the  Renaissance.  Scholars  and  students  there  were  in 
France  two  hundred  years  before  the  days  of  Erasmus 
and  of  Bude"  ;  but  they  were  not  scholars  inspired  by 


46  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

genius,  and  they  contented  themselves  with  the  task  of 
translators,  undertaken  chiefly  with  a  didactic  purpose. 
If  they  failed  to  comprehend  the  spirit  of  antiquity, 
none  the  less  they  did  something  towards  quickening 
the  mind  of  their  own  time  and  rendering  the  French 
language  less  inadequate  to  the  intellectual  needs  of  a 
later  age.  All  that  was  then  known  of  Livy's  history 
was  rendered  into  French  in  1356  by  the  friend  of 
Petrarch,  Pierre  Require.  On  the  suggestion  of  Charles 
V.,  Nicole  Oresme  translated  from  the  Latin  the  Ethics, 
Politics,  and  Economics  of  Aristotle.  It  was  to  please  the 
king  that  the  aged  Raoul  de  Presles  prepared  his  version 
of  St.  Augustine's  De  Civitate  Dei,  and  Denis  Foulechat, 
with  very  scanty  scholarship,  set  himself  to  render  the 
Polycraticus  of  John  of  Salisbury.  The  dukes  of  Bour- 
bon, of  Berry,  of  Burgundy,  were  also  patrons  of  letters 
and  encouraged  their  translators.  We  cannot  say  how 
far  this  movement  of  scholarship  might  have  progressed, 
if  external  conditions  had  favoured  its  development.  In 
Jean  de  Montreuil,  secretary  of  Charles  VI.,  the  devoted 
student  of  Cicero,  Virgil,  and  Terence,  we  have  an 
example  of  the  true  humanist  before  the  Renaissance. 
But  the  seeming  dawn  was  a  deceptive  aurora  ;  the  early 
humanism  of  France  was  clouded  and  lost  in  the  tempests 
of  the  Hundred  Years'  War. 


Ill 

HISTORY 

While  the  mediaeval  historians,  compilers,  and  ab- 
breviators  from  records  of  the  past  laboured  under  all 
the  disadvantages  of  an  age  deficient  in  the  critical  spirit, 


HISTORY  IN  VERSE  4; 

and  produced  works  of  little  value  either  for  their  sub- 
stance or  their  literary  style,  the  chroniclers,  who  told 
the  story  of  their  own  times,  Villehardouin,  Joinville, 
Froissart,  Commines,  and  others,  have  bequeathed  to 
us,  in  living  pictures  or  sagacious  studies  of  events  and 
their  causes,  some  of  the  chief  treasures  of  the  past. 
History  at  first,  as  composed  for  readers  who  knew 
no  Latin,  was  comprised  in  those  chansons  de  geste  which 
happened  to  deal  with  matter  that  was  not  wholly — or 
almost  wholly — the  creation  of  fancy.  Narrative  poems 
treating  of  contemporary  events  came  into  existence  with 
the  Crusades,  but  of  these  the  earliest  have  not  survived, 
and  we  possess  only  rehandlings  of  their  matter  in  the 
style  of  romance.  What  happened  in  France  might  be 
supposed  to  be  known  to  persons  of  intelligence  ;  what 
happened  in  the  East  was  new  and  strange.  But  Eng- 
land, like  the  East,  was  foreign  soil,  and  the  Anglo-Nor- 
man trouveres  of  the  eleventh  and  twelfth  centuries  busied 
themselves  with  copious  narratives  in  rhyme,  such  as 
Gaimar's  Estorie  des  Engles  (1151),  Wace's  Brut  (1155)  and 
his  Roman  de  Rou,  which,  if  of  small  literary  importance, 
remain  as  monuments  in  the  history  of  the  language. 
The  murder  of  Becket  called  forth  the  admirable  life 
of  the  saint  by  Gamier  de  Pont-Sainte-Maxence,  founded 
upon  original  investigations  ;  Henry  II.'s  conquest  of 
Ireland  was  related  by  an  anonymous  writer  ;  his  vic- 
tories over  the  Scotch  (1173-1174)  were  strikingly  de- 
scribed by  Jordan  Fantosme.  But  by  far  the  most 
remarkable  piece  of  versified  history  of  this  period,  re- 
markable alike  for  its  historical  interest  and  its  literary 
merit,  is  the  Vie  de  Guillaume  le  Marechal — William, 
Earl  of  Pembroke,  guardian  of  Henry  III. — a  poem  of 
nearly  twenty  thousand  octosyllabic  lines  by  an  un- 


48  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

known  writer,  discovered  by  M.  Paul  Meyer  in  the 
library  of  Sir  Thomas  Phillipps.  "The  masterpiece  of 
Anglo-Norman  historiography,"  writes  M.  Langlois,  "  is 
assuredly  this  anonymous  poem,  so  long  forgotten,  and 
henceforth  classic." 

Prose,  however,  in  due  time  proved  itself  to  be  the 
fitting  medium  for  historical  narrative,  and  verse  was 
given  over  to  the  extravagances  of  fantasy.  Compilations 
from  the  Latin,  translations  from  the  pseudo-Turpin, 
from  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth,  from  Sallust,  Suetonius, 
and  Caesar  were  succeeded  by  original  record  and 
testimony.  GEOFFROY  DE  VILLEHARDOUIN,  born  be- 
tween 1150  and  1164,  Marshal  of  Champagne  in 
1191,  was  appointed  eight  years  later  to  negotiate 
with  the  Venetians  for  the  transport  of  the  Crusaders 
to  the  East.  He  was  probably  a  chief  agent  in 
the  intrigue  which  diverted  the  fourth  Crusade  from 
its  original  destination — the  Holy  Land — to  the  assault 
upon  Constantinople.  In  the  events  which  followed  he 
had  a  prominent  part;  before  the  close  of  1213  Ville- 
hardouin  was  dead.  During  his  last  years  he  dictated 
the  unfinished  Memoirs  known  as  the  Conquete  de  Con- 
stantinople, which  relate  the  story  of  his  life  from  1198 
to  1207.  Villehardouin  is  the  first  chronicler  who  im- 
presses his  own  personality  on  what  he  wrote  :  a  brave 
leader,  skilful  in  resource,  he  was  by  no  means  an 
enthusiast  possessed  by  the  more  extravagant  ideas  of 
chivalry  ;  much  more  was  he  a  politician  and  diplomatist, 
with  material  interests  well  in  view  ;  not,  indeed,  devoid 
of  a  certain  imaginative  wonder  at  the  marvels  of  the 
East ;  not  without  his  moments  of  ardour  and  excite- 
ment ;  deeply  impressed  with  the  feeling  of  feudal  loyalty, 
the  sense  of  the  bond  between  the  suzerain  and  his 


VILLEHARDOUIN  49 

vassal ;  deeply  conscious  of  the  need  of  discipline  in 
great  adventures  ;  keeping  in  general  a  cool  head,  which 
could  calculate  the  sum  of  profit  and  loss. 

It  is  probable  that  Villehardouin  knew  too  much  of 
affairs,  and  was  too  experienced  a  man  of  the  world  to 
be  quite  frank  as  a  historian  :  we  can  hardly  believe, 
as  he  would  have  us,  that  the  diversion  of  the  crusad- 
ing host  from  its  professed  objects  was  unpremedi- 
tated ;  we  can  perceive  that  he  composes  his  narrative 
so  as  to  form  an  apology ;  his  recital  has  been  justly 
described  as,  in  part  at  least,  "un  memoire  justificatif." 
Nevertheless,  there  are  passages,  such  as  that  which 
describes  the  first  view  of  Constantinople,  where  Ville- 
hardouin's  feelings  seize  upon  his  imagination,  and,  as 
it  were,  overpower  him.  In  general  he  writes  with  a 
grave  simplicity,  sometimes  with  baldness,  disdaining 
ornament,  little  sensible  to  colour  or  grace  of  style  ; 
but  by  virtue  of  his  clear  intelligence  and  his  real 
grasp  of  facts  his  chronicle  acquires  a  certain  literary 
dignity,  and  when  his  words  become  vivid  we  know 
that  it  is  because  he  had  seen  with  inquisitive  eyes 
and  felt  with  genuine  ardour.  Happily  for  students  of 
history,  while  Villehardouin  presents  the  views  of  an 
aristocrat  and  a  diplomatist,  the  incidents  of  the  same 
extraordinary  adventure  can  be  seen,  as  they  struck  a 
simple  soldier,  in  the  record  of  Robert  de  Clari,  which 
may  serve  as  a  complement  and  a  counterpoise  to  the 
chronicle  of  his  more  illustrious  contemporary.  The  un- 
finished Histoire  de  I ' Empereur  Henri,  which  carries  on 
the  narrative  of  events  for  some  years  subsequent  to 
those  related  by  Villehardouin,  the  work  of  Henri  de 
Valenciennes,  is  a  prose  redaction  of  what  had  originally 
formed  a  chanson  de  geste. 


SO  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

The  versified  chronicle  or  history  in  the  thirteenth  cen- 
tury declined  among  Anglo-Norman  writers,  but  was 
continued  in  Flanders  and  in  France.  Prose  translations  . 
and  adaptations  of  Latin  chronicles,  ancient  and  modern, 
were  numerous,  but  the  literary  value  of  many  of  these  is 
slight.  In  the  Abbey  of  Saint-Denis  a  corpus  of  national 
history  in  Latin  had  for  a  long  while  been  in  process  of  for- 
mation. Utilising  this  corpus  and  the  works  from  which 
it  was  constructed,  one  of  the  monks  of  the  Abbey — per- 
haps a  certain  Primat — compiled,  in  the  second  half  of 
the  century,  a  History  of  France  in  the  vernacular — the 
Grandes  Chroniques  de  Saint- Denis — with  which  later  addi- 
tions were  from  time  to  time  incorporated,  until  under 
Charles  V.  the  Grandes  Chroniques  de  France  attained  their 
definitive  form.1  Far  more  interesting  as  a  literary  com- 
position is  the  little  work  known  as  Rfcits  d*un  Menestrel 
de  Reims  (1260),  a  lively,  graceful,  and  often  dramatic 
collection  of  traditions,  anecdotes,  dialogues,  made  rather 
for  the  purposes  of  popular  entertainment  than  of  formal 
instruction,  and  expressing  the  ideas  of  the  middle  classes 
on  men  and  things.  Forgotten  during  several  centuries, 
it  remains  to  us  as  one  of  the  happiest  records  of  the 
mediaeval  spirit. 

But  among  the  prose  narratives  to  which  the  thirteenth 
century  gave  birth,  the  Histoire  de  Saint  Louis,  by  JEAN 
DE  JOINVILLE,  stands  pre-eminent.  Joinville,  born  about 
1224,  possessed  of  such  literary  culture  as  could  be  gained 
at  the  Court  of  Thibaut  IV.  of  Champagne,  became  a 
favoured  companion  of  the  chivalric  and  saintly  Louis 
during  his  six  years'  Crusade  from  1248  to  1254.  The 
memory  of  the  King  remained  the  most  precious  pos- 

1  The   Chroniques  were   continued   by   lay  writers    to    the   accession   of 
Louis  XI. 


JOINVILLE  5 1 

session  of  his  follower's  elder  years.  It  is  probable 
that  soon  after  1272  Joinville  prepared  an  autobio- 
graphic fragment,  dealing  with  that  period  of  his  youth 
which  had  been  his  age  of  adventure.  When  he  was 
nearly  eighty,  Jeanne  of  Navarre,  wife  of  Philippe  le  Bel, 
invited  the  old  seneschal  to  put  on  record  the  holy 
words  and  good  deeds  of  Saint  Louis.  Joinville  willingly 
acceded  to  the  request,  and  incorporating  the  fragment 
of  autobiography,  in  which  the  writer  appeared  in  close 
connection  with  his  King,  he  had  probably  almost  com- 
pleted his  work  at  the  date  of  Queen  Jeanne's  death 
(April  2,  1305);  to  her  son,  afterwards  Louis  X.,  it  was 
dedicated.  His  purpose  was  to  recite  the  pious  words 
and  set  forth  the  Christian  virtues  of  the  royal  Saint  in 
one  book  of  the  History,  and  to  relate  his  chivalric  actions 
in  the  other  ;  but  Joinville  had  not  the  art  of  construc- 
tion, he  suffered  from  the  feebleness  of  old  age,  and  he 
could  not  perfectly  accomplish  his  design ;  in  1317 
Joinville  died.  Deriving  some  of  his  materials  from 
other  memoirs  of  the  King,  especially  those  by  Geoffrey 
de  Beaulieu  and  Guillaume  de  Nangis,  he  drew  mainly 
upon  his  own  recollections.  Unhappily  the  most  autho- 
ritative manuscripts  of  the  Histoire  de  Saint  Louis  have 
been  lost ;  we  possess  none  earlier  than  the  close  of 
the  fourteenth  century  ;  but  by  the  learning  and  skill 
of  a  modern  editor  the  text  has  been  substantially 
established. 

We  must  not  expect  from  Joinville  precision  of  chrono- 
logy or  exactitude  in  the  details  of  military  operations. 
His  recollections  crowd  upon  him  ;  he  does  not  marshal 
them  by  power  of  intellect,  but  abandons  himself  to  the 
delights  of  memory.  He  is  a  frank,  amiable,  spirited 
talker,  who  has  much  to  tell ;  he  succeeds  in  giving  us 


52  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

two  admirable  portraits — his  own  and  that  of  the  King ; 
and  unconsciously  he  conveys  into  his  narrative  both  the 
chivalric  spirit  of  his  time,  and  a  sense  of  those  prosaic 
realities  which  tempered  the  ideals  of  chivalry.  What 
his  eyes  had  rested  on  lives  in  his  memory,  with  all  its 
picturesque  features,  all  its  lines  and  colours,  undimmed 
by  time  ;  and  his  curious  eyes  had  been  open  to  things 
great  and  small.  He  appears  as  a  brave  soldier,  but,  he 
confesses,  capable  of  mortal  fear ;  sincerely  devout,  but 
not  made  for  martyrdom  ;  zealous  for  his  master's  cause, 
but  not  naturally  a  chaser  of  rainbow  dreams  ;  one  who 
enjoys  good  cheer,  who  prefers  his  wine  unallayed  with 
water,  who  loves  splendid  attire,  who  thinks  longingly  of 
his  pleasant  chateau,  and  the  children  awaiting  his  return  ; 
one  who  will  decline  future  crusading,  and  who  believes 
that  a  man  of  station  may  serve  God  well  by  remaining 
in  his  own  fields  among  his  humble  dependants.  But 
Joinville  felt  deeply  the  attraction  of  a  nature  more  under 
the  control  of  high,  ideal  motives  than  was  his  own  ;  he 
would  not  himself  wash  the  feet  of  the  poor ;  he  would 
rather  commit  thirty  mortal  sins  than  be  a  leper ;  but  a 
kingly  saint  may  touch  heights  of  piety  which  are  un- 
attainable by  himself.  And,  at  the  same  time,  he  makes 
us  feel  that  Louis  is  not  the  less  a  man  because  he  is  a 
saint.  Certain  human  infirmities  of  temper  are  his  ;  yet 
his  magnanimity,  his  sense  of  justice,  his  ardent  devotion, 
his  charity,  his  pure  self-surrender  are  made  so  sensible 
to  us  as  we  read  the  record  of  Joinville  that  we  are  willing 
to  subscribe  to  the  sentence  of  Voltaire  :  "  It  is  not  given 
to  man  to  carry  virtue  to  a  higher  point." 

During  the  fourteenth  century  the  higher  spirit  of 
feudalism  declined  ;  the  old  faith  and  the  old  chivalry 
were  suffering  a  decay  ;  the  bourgeoisie  grew  in  power 


FROISSART  53 

and  sought  for  instruction  ;  it  was  an  age  of  prose,  in 
which  learning  was  passing  to  the  laity,  or  was  adapted 
to  their  uses.  Yet,  while  the  inner  life  of  chivalry  failed 
day  by  day,  and  self-interest  took  the  place  of  heroic 
self-surrender,  the  external  pomp  and  decoration  of  the 
feudal  world  became  more  brilliant  than  ever.  War  was 
a  trade  practised  from  motives  of  vulgar  cupidity ;  but  it 
was  adorned  with  splendour,  and  had  a  show  of  gallantry. 
The  presenter  in  literature  of  this  glittering  spectacle  is 
the  historian  JEAN  FROISSART.  Born  in  1338,  at  Valen- 
ciennes, of  bourgeois  parents,  Froissart,  at  the  age  of 
twenty-two,  a  disappointed  lover,  a  tonsured  clerk,  and 
already  a  poet,  journeyed  to  London,  with  his  manu- 
script on  the  battle  of  Poitiers  as  an  offering  to  his 
countrywoman,  Queen  Philippa  of  Hainault.  For  nearly 
five  years  he  was  the  ditteur  of  the  Queen,  a  sharer  in  the 
life  of  the  court,  but  attracted  before  all  else  to  those 
"  ancient  knights  and  squires  who  had  taken  part  in 
feats  of  arms,  and  could  speak  of  them  rightly."  His 
patroness  encouraged  Froissart's  historical  inquiries.  In 
the  Chroniques  of  Jean  le  Bel,  canon  of  Liege,  he  found 
material  ready  to  his  hand,  and  freely  appropriated  it  in 
many  of  his  most  admirable  pages  ;  but  he  also  travelled 
much  through  England  and  Scotland,  noting  everything 
that  impressed  his  imagination,  and  gathering  with  delight 
the  testimony  of  those  who  had  themselves  been  actors  in 
the  events  of  the  past  quarter  of  a  century.  He  accom- 
panied the  Black  Prince  to  Aquitaine,  and,  later,  the 
Duke  of  Clarence  to  Milan.  The  death  of  Queen  Philippa, 
in  1369,  was  ruinous  to  his  prospects.  For  a  time  he 
supported  himself  as  a  trader  in  his  native  place.  Then 
other  patrons,  kinsfolk  of  the  Queen,  came  to  his  aid. 
The  first  revised  redaction  of  the  first  book  of  his 


54  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

Chronicles  was  his  chief  occupation  while  curd  of  Les- 
tinnes  ;  it  is  a  record  of  events  from  1325  to  the^  death 
of  Edward  III.,  and  its  brilliant  narrative  of  events  still 
recent  or  contemporary  insured  its  popularity  with  aris- 
tocratic readers.  Under  the  influence  of  Queen  Philippa's 
brother-in-law,  Robert  of  Namur,  it  is  English  in  its 
sympathies  and  admirations.  Unhappily  Froissart  was 
afterwards  moved  by  his  patron,  Gui  de  Blois,  to  rehandle 
the  book  in  the  French  interest ;  and  once  again  in  his 
old  age  his  work  was  recast  with  a  view  to  effacing  the 
large  debt  which  he  owed  to  his  predecessor,  Jean  le  Bel. 
The  first  redaction  is,  however,  that  which  won  and  re- 
tained the  general  favour.  If  his  patron  induced  Froissart 
to  wrong  his  earlier  work,  he  made  amends,  for  it  is  to 
Gui  de  Blois  that  we  owe  the  last  three  books  of  the 
history,  which  bring  the  tale  of  events  down  to  the 
assassination  of  Richard  II.  Still  the  cure  of  Lestinnes 
and  the  canon  of  Chimai  pursued  his  early  method  of 
travel — to  the  court  of  Gaston,  Count  of  Foix,  to  Flanders, 
to  England — ever  eager  in  his  interrogation  of  witnesses. 
It  is  believed  that  he  lived  to  the  close  of  1404,  but  the 
date  of  his  death  is  uncertain. 

Froissart  as  a  poet  wrote  gracefully  in  the  conventional 
modes  of  his  time.  His  vast  romance  Meliador,  to  which 
Wenceslas,  Duke  of  Brabant,  contributed  the  lyric  part 
— famous  in  its  day,  long  lost  and  recently  recovered — is 
a  construction  of  external  marvels  and  splendours  which 
lacks  the  inner  life  of  imaginative  faith.  But  as  a  brilliant 
scene-painter  Froissart  the  chronicler  is  unsurpassed. 
His  chronology,  even  his  topography,  cannot  be  trusted 
as  exact ;  he  is  credulous  rather  than  critical ;  he  does  not 
always  test  or  control  the  statements  of  his  informants; 
he  is  misled  by  their  prejudices  and  passions;  he  views 


FROISSART  5  5 

all  things  from  the  aristocratic  standpoint;  the  life  of  the 
common  people  does  not  interest  him;  he  has  no  sense 
of  their  wrongs,  and  little  pity  for  their  sufferings;  he 
does  not  study  the  deeper  causes  of  events ;  he  is  almost 
incapable  of  reflection;  he  has  little  historical  sagacity; 
he  accepts  appearances  without  caring  to  interpret  their 
meanings.  But  what  a  vivid  picture  he  presents  of  the 
external  aspects  of  fourteenth-century  life !  What  a  joy 
he  has  in  adventure !  What  an  eye  for  the  picturesque ! 
What  movement,  what  colour!  What  a  dramatic — or 
should  we  say  theatrical  ? — feeling  for  life  and  action ! 
Much,  indeed,  of  the  vividness  of  Froissart's  narrative 
may  be  due  to  the  eye-witnesses  from  whom  he  had 
obtained  information ;  but  genius  was  needed  to  preserve 
— perhaps  to  enhance — the  animation  of  their  recitals. 
If  he  understoodr  his  own  age  imperfectly,  he  depicted 
its  outward  appearance  with  incomparable  skill ;  and 
though  his  moral  sense  was  shallow,  and  his  knowledge 
of  character  far  from  profound,  he  painted  portraits 
which  live  in  the  imagination  of  his  readers. 

The  fifteenth  century  is  rich  in  historical  writings  of 
every  kind — compilations  of  general  history,  domestic 
chronicles,  such  as  the  Livre  des  Fails  du  bon  Messire 
Jean  le  Maingre,  dit  Boudquaut,  official  chronicles  both 
of  the  French  and  Burgundian  parties,  journals  and 
memoirs.  The  Burgundian  Enguerrand  de  Monstrelet 
was  a  lesser  Froissart,  faithful,  laborious,  a  transcriber  of 
documents,  but  without  his  predecessor's  genius.  On 
the  French  side  the  so  -  called  Chronique  Scandaleuse, 
by  Jean  de  Roye,  a  Parisian  of  -the  time  of  Louis  XL, 
to  some  extent  redeems  the  mediocrity  of  the  writers 
of  his  party. 

In  PHILIPPE  DE  COMMIXES  we  meet  the  last  chronicler 
5 


56  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  the  first  of  modern  historians. 
Bonn  about  1445,  in  Flanders,  of  the  family  of  Van  den 
Clyte,  Commines,  whose  parents  died  early,  received  a 
scanty  education  ;  but  if  he  knew  no  Latin,  his  acquaint- 
ance with  modern  languages  served  him-  well.  At  first 
in  the  service  of  Charles  the  Bold,  in  1472  he  passed 
over  to  the  cause  of  Louis  XI.  His  treason  to  the  Duke 
may  be  almost  described  as  inevitable  ;  for  Commines 
could  not  attach  himself  to  violence  and  folly,  and  was 
naturally  drawn  to  the  counsels  of  civil  prudence.  The 
bargain  was  as  profitable  to  his  new  master  as  to  the 
servant.  On  the  King's  death  came  a  reverse  of  fortune 
for  Commines  :  for  eight  months  he  was  cramped  in  the 
iron  cage  ;  during  two  years  he  remained  a  prisoner  in 
the  Conciergerie  (1487-89),  with  enforced  leisure  to 
think  of  the  preparation  of  his  Memoires.1  Again  the 
sunshine  of  royal  favour  returned  ;  he  followed  Charles 
VIII.  to  Italy,  and  was  engaged  in  diplomatic  service  at 
Venice.  In  1511  he  died. 

The  Mtmoires  of  Commines  were  composed  as  a  body 
of  material  for  a  projected  history  of  Louis  XI.  by  Arch- 
bishop Angelo  Cato  ;  the  writer,  apparently  in  all  sin- 
cerity, hoped  that  his  unlearned  French  might  thus 
be  translated  into  Latin,  the  language  of  scholars  ; 
happily  we  possess  the  Memoirs  as  they  left  their 
author's  mind.  And,  though  Commines  rather  hides 
than  thrusts  to  view  his  own  personality,  every  page 
betrays  the  presence  of  a  remarkable  intellect.  He  was 
no  artist  either  in  imaginative  design  or  literary  execu- 
tion ;  he  was  before  all  else  a  thinker,  a  student  of  poli- 
tical phenomena,  a  searcher  after  the  causes  of  events, 
an  analyst  of  motives,  a  psychologist  of  individual  char- 

1  Books  I.-VI.,  written  1488-94  ;  Books  VII.,  VIIL,  written  1494-95. 


COMMINES  57 

acter  and  of  the  temper  of  peoples,  and,  after  a  fashion,  a 
moralist  in  his  interpretation  of  history.  He  cared  little, 
or  not  at  all,  for  the  coloured  surface  of  life  ;  his  chief 
concern  is  to  seize  the  master  motive  by  which  men  and 
events  are  ruled,  to  comprehend  the  secret  springs  of 
action.  He  is  aristocratic  in  his  politics,  monarchical, 
an  advocate  for  the  centralisation  of  power ;  but  he  would 
have  the  monarch  enlightened,  constitutional,  and  pacific. 
He  values  solid  gains  more  than  showy  magnificence ; 
and  knowing  the  use  of  astuteness,  he  knows  also  the 
importance  of  good  faith.  He  has  a  sense  of  the  balance 
of  European  power,  and  anticipates  Montesquieu  in  his 
theory  of  the  influence  of  climates  on  peoples.  There  is 
something  of  pity,  something  of  irony,  in  the  view  which 
he  takes  of  the  joyless  lot  of  the  great  ones  of  the  earth. 
Having  ascertained  how  few  of  the  combinations  of 
events  can  be  controlled  by  the  wisest  calculation,  he 
takes  refuge  in  a  faith  in  Providence ;  he  finds  God 
necessary  to  explain  this  entangled  world ;  and  yet  his 
morality  is  in  great  part  that  which  tries  good  and  evil 
by  the  test  of  success.  By  the  intensity  of  his  thought 
Commines  sometimes  becomes  striking  in  his  expression; 
occasionally  he  rises  to  a  grave  eloquence ;  occasionally 
his  irony  is  touched  by  a  bitter  humour.  But  in  general 
he  writes  with  little  sentiment  and  no  sense  of  beauty, 
under  the  control  of  a  dry  and  circumspect  intelligence. 


CHAPTER    IV 
LATEST  MEDIAEVAL  POETS— THE  DRAMA 

I 

LATEST  MEDIAEVAL  POETS 

THE  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries  form  a  period  of 
transition  from  the  true  Middle  Ages  to  the  Renaissance. 
The  national  epopee  was  dead  ;  the  Arthurian  tales  were 
rehandled  in  prose  ;  under  the  influence  of  the  Roman  de 
la  Rose,  allegory  was  highly  popular,  and  Jean  de  Meun 
had  shown  how  it  could  be  applied  to  the  secularisation 
of  learning  ;  the  middle  classes  were  seeking  for  instruc- 
tion. In  lyric  poetry  the  free  creative  spirit  had  declined, 
but  the  technique  of  verse  was  elaborated  and  reduced 
to  rule  ;  ballade,  chant  royal,  lai,  virelai,  rondeau  were 
the  established  forms,  and  lyric  verse  was  often  used  for 
matter  of  a  didactic,  moral,  or  satirical  tendency.  Even 
Ovid  was  tediously  moralised  (c.  1300)  in  some  seventy 
thousand  lines  by  Chretien  Legouais.  Literary  societies 
orfluys1  were,  instituted,  which  maintained  the  rules  of  art, 
and  awarded  crowns  to  successful  competitors  in  poetry; 
a  formal  ingenuity  replaced  lyrical  inspiration  ;  poetry 
accepted  proudly  the  name  of  "  rhetoric."  At  the  same 

1  Pity,  mountain,  eminence,  signifying  the  elevated  seat  of  the  judges  of  the 
artistic  competition. 


MACHAUT:    DESCHAMPS  59 

time  there  is  gain  in  one  respect — the  poets  no  longer 
conceal  their  own  personality  behind  their  work  :  they 
instruct,  edify,  moralise,  express  their  real  or  simulated 
passions  in  their  own  persons  ;  if  their  art  is  mechanical, 
yet  through  it  we  make  some  acquaintance  with  the  men 
and  manners  of  the  age. 

The  chief  exponent  of  the  new  art  of  poetry  was 
GUILLAUME  DE  MACHAUT.  Born  about  1300,  he  served 
as  secretary  to  the  King  of  Bohemia,  who  fell  at  Cr6cy. 
He  enjoyed  a  tranquil  old  age  in  his  province  of  Cham- 
pagne, cultivating  verse  and  music  with  the  applause  of 
his  contemporaries.  The  ingenuities  of  gallantry  are 
deployed  at  length  in  his  Jugement  du  Roi  de  Navarre ; 
he  relates  with  dull  prolixity  the  history  of  his  patron, 
Pierre  de  Lusignan,  King  of  Cyprus,  in  his  Prise  dAlex- 
andrie ;  the  Voir  dit  relates  in  varying  verse  and  prose 
the  course  of  his  sexagenarian  love  for  a  maiden  in 
her  teens,  Peronne  d'Armentieres,  who  gratified  her 
coquetry  with  an  old  poet's  adoration,  and  then  wedded 
his  rival. 

In  the  forms  of  his  verse  EUSTACHE  DESCHAMPS,  also 
a  native  of  Champagne  (c.  1345-1405),  was  a  disciple 
of  Machaut :  if  he  was  not  a  poet,  he  at  least  interests 
a  reader  by  rhymed  journals  of  his  own  life  and  the  life 
of  his  time,  written  in  the  spirit  of  an  honest  bourgeois, 
whom  disappointed  personal  hopes  and  public  mis- 
fortune had  early  embittered.  Eighty  thousand  lines, 
twelve  hundred  ballades,  nearly  two  hundred  rondeaux, 
a  vast  unfinished  satire  on  woman,  the  Miroir  de  Manage, 
fatigued  even  his  own  age,  and  the  official  court  poet 
of  France  outlived  his  fame.  He  sings  of  love  in  the 
conventional  modes  ;  his  historical  poems,  celebrating 
events  of  the  d?.y,  have  interest  by  virtue  of  their  matter ; 


60  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

as  a  moralist  in  verse  he  deplores  the  corruption  of 
high  and  low,  the  cupidity  in  Church  and  State,  and, 
above  all,  applies  his  wit  to  expose  the  vices  and  infir- 
mities of  women.  The  earliest  Poetic  in  French — L'art 
de  dictier  et  de  fere  chancons,  balades,  virelats,  et  rondeaulx 
(1392) — is  the  work  of  Eustache  Deschamps,  in  which 
the  poet,  by  no  means  himself  a  master  of  harmonies, 
insists  on  the  prime  importance  of  harmony  in  verse. 

The  exhaustion  of  the  mediaeval  sources  of  inspiration 
is  still  more  apparent  in  the  fifteenth-century  successors 
of  Deschamps.  But  already  something  of  the  reviving 
influence  of  Italian  culture  makes  itself  felt.  CHRISTINE 
DE  PlSAN,  Italian  by  her  parentage  and  place  of  birth 
(c.  1363),  was  left  a  widow  with  three  young  children  at 
the  age  of  twenty-five.  Her  sorrow,  uttered  in  verse,  is 
a  genuine  lyric  cry ;  but  when  in  her  poverty  she  prac- 
tised authorship  as  a  trade,  while  she  wins  our  respect 
as  a  mother,  the  poetess  is  too  often  at  once  facile  and 
pedantic.  Christine  was  zealous  in  maintaining  the 
honour  of  her  sex  against  the  injuries  of  Jean  de  Meun  ; 
in  her  prose  Cite  des  Dames  she  celebrates  the  virtues 
and  heroism  of  women,  with  examples  from  ancient  and 
modern  times ;  in  the  Livre  des  Trots  Vertus  she  instructs 
women  in  their  duties.  When  advanced  in  years,  and 
sheltered  in  the  cloister,  she  sang  her  swan -song  in 
honour  of  Joan  of  Arc.  Admirable  in  every  relation  of 
life,  a  patriot  and  a  scholar,  she  only  needed  one  thing 
— genius — to  be  a  poet  of  distinction. 

A  legend  relates  that  the  Dauphiness,  Margaret  of 
Scotland,  kissed  the  lips  of  a  sleeper  who  was  the  ugliest 
man  in  France,  because  from  that  "precious  mouth" 
had  issued  so  many  "good  words  and  virtuous  sayings." 
The  sleeper  was  Christine's  poetical  successor,  ALAIN 


ALAIN  CHARTIER  61 

CHARTIER.  His  fame  was  great,  and  as  a  writer  of  prose 
he  must  be  remembered  with  honour,  both  for  his  patri- 
otic ardour,  and  for  the  harmonious  eloquence  (modelled 
on  classical  examples)  in  which  that  ardour  found  ex- 
pression. His  first  work,  the  Livre  des  Quatre  Dames, 
is  in  verse :  four  ladies  lament  their  husbands  slain, 
captured,  lost,  or  fugitive  and  dishonoured,  at  Agincourt. 
Many  of  his  other  poems  were  composed  .as  a  distraction 
from  the  public  troubles  of  the  time  j  the  title  of  one, 
widely  celebrated  in  its  own  day,  La  Belle  Dame  sans 
Mercy,  has  obtained  a  new  meaning  of  romance  through 
its  appropriation  by  Keats.  In  1422  he  wrote  his  prose 
Quadrilogue  Invectif,  in  which  suffering  France  implores 
the  nobles,  the  clergy,  the  people  to  show  some  pity  for 
her  miserable  state.  If  Froissart  had  not  discerned  the 
evils  of  the  feudal  system,  they  were  patent  to  the  eyes 
of  Alain  Chartier.  His  Livre  de  I'Esperance,  where  the 
oratorical  prose  is  interspersed  with  lyric  verse,  spares 
neither  the  clergy  nor  the  frivolous  and  dissolute  gentry, 
who  forget  their  duty  to  their  country  in  wanton  self- 
indulgence  ;  yet  his  last  word,  written  at  the  moment 
when  Joan  of  Arc  was  leaving  the  pastures  for  battle, 
is  one  of  hope.  His  Curial  ( The  Courtier]  is  a  satire  on 
the  vices  of  the  court»by  one  who  had  acquaintance  with 
its  corruption.  The  large,  harmonious  phrase  of  Alain 
Chartier  was  new  to  French  prose,  and  is  hardly  heard 
again  until  the  seventeenth  century. 

The  last  grace  and  refinements  of  chivalric  society 
blossom  in  the  poetry  of  CHARLES  D'ORLE"ANS,  "  la  grace 
exquise  des  choses  freles."  He  was  born  in  1391,  son  of 
Louis,  Duke  of  Orleans,  and  an  Italian  mother,  Valentine 
of  Milan.  Married  at  fifteen  to  the  widow  of  Richard  II. 
of  England,  he  lost  his  father  by  assassination,  his  mother 


62  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

by  the  stroke  of  grief,  his  wife  in  childbirth.  From  the 
battlefield  of  Agincourt  he  passed  to  England,  where  he 
remained  a  prisoner,  closely  guarded,  for  twenty-five 
years.  It  seems  as  if  events  should  have  made  him  a 
tragic  poet ;  but  for  Charles  d'Orleans  poetry  was  the 
brightness  or  the  consolation  of  his  exile.  His  elder 
years  at  the  little  court  of  Blois  were  a  season  of  delicate 
gaiety,  when  he  enjoyed  the  recreations  of  age,  and 
smiled  at  the  'passions  of  youth.  He  died  in  1465. 
Neither  depth  of  reflection  nor  masculine  power  of 
feeling  finds  expression  in  his  verse  ;  he  does  not  con- 
tribute new  ideas  to  poetry,  nor  invent  new  forms,  but 
he  rendered  the  old  material  and  made  the  accepted 
moulds  of  verse  charming  by  a  gracious  personality  and 
an  exquisite  sense. of  art.  Ballade,  rondeau,  chanson, 
each  is  manipulated  with  the  skill  of  a  goldsmith  setting 
his  gems.  He  sings  of  the  beauty  of  woman,  the  lighter 
joys  of  love,  the  pleasure  of  springtide,  the  song  of 
the  birds,  the  gliding  of  a  stream  or  a  cloud  ;  or,  as  an 
elder  man,  he  mocks  with  amiable  irony  the  fatiguing 
ardours  of  young  hearts.  When  St.  Valentine's  day 
comes  round,  his  good  physician  "  Nonchaloir  "  advises 
him  to  abstain  from  choosing  a  mistress,  and  recom- 
mends an  easy  pillow.  The  influence  of  Charles 
d'Orleans  on  French  poetry  was  slight;  it  was  not  until 
1734  that  his  forgotten  poems  were  brought  to  light. 

In  the  close  of  the  mediaeval  period,  when  old  things 
were  passing  away  and  new  things  were  as  yet  unborn, 
the  minds  of  men  inclined  to  fill  the  void  with  mockery 
and  satire.  Martin  Lefranc  (c.  1410-61)  in  his  CJiampion 
des  Dames — a  poem  of  twenty-four  thousand  lines,  in 
which  there  is  much  spirit  and  vigour  of  versification — 
balances  one  against  another  the  censure  and  the  praise 


VILLON  63 

of  women.  Coquillard,  with  his  railleries  assuming  legal 
forms  and  phrases,  laughs  at  love  and  lovers,  or  at  the 
Droils  Nouveaux  of  a  happy  time  when  licence  had  be- 
come the  general  law.  Henri  Baude,  a  realist  in  his 
keen  observation,  satirises  with  direct,  incisive  force, 
the  manners  and  morals  of  his  age.  Martial  d'Auvergne 
(c.  1433-1508),  chronicling  events  in  his  Vigiles  de  Charles 
F//.,  a  poem  written  according  to  the  scheme  of  the 
liturgical  Vigils,  is  eloquent  in  his  expression  of  the 
wrongs  of  the  poor,  and  in  his  condemnation  of  the 
abuses  of  power  and  station.  If  the  Amant  rendu  Cor- 
delier be  his,  he  too  appears  among  those  who  jest  at 
the  follies  and  extravagance  of  love.  His  prose  Arrcts 
d  Amour  are  discussions  and  decisions  of  the  imaginary 
court  which  determines  questions  of  gallantry. 

Amid  such  mockery  of  life  and  love,  the  horror  of  death 
was  ever  present  to  the  mind  of  a  generation  from  which 
hope  and  faith  seemed  to  fail ;  it  was  the  time  of  the 
Danse  Macabre ;  the  skeleton  became  a  grim  humourist 
satirising  human  existence,  and  verses  written  for  the 
dance  of  women  were  ascribed  in  the  manuscript  which 
preserves  them  to  Martial  d'Auvergne. 

Passion  and  the  idea  of  death  mingle  with  a  power 
at  once  realistic  and  romantic  in  the  poetry  of  FRANCOIS 
VILLON.  He  was  born  in  poverty,  an  obscure  child  of 
the  capital,  in  1430  or  1431  ;  he  adopted  the  name  of  his 
early  protector,  Villon  ;  obtained  as  a  poor  scholar  his 
bachelor's  degree  in  1449,  and  three  years  later  became  a 
maitre  es  arts ;  but  already  he  was  a  master  of  arts  less 
creditable  than  those  of  the  University.  In  1455  Villon — 
or  should  we  call  him  Monterbier,  Montcorbier,  Corbueil, 
Desloges,  Mouton  (aliases  convenient  for  vagabondage)  ? 
— quarrelled  with  a  priest,  and  killed  his  adversary ;  he 


64  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

was  condemned  to  death,  and  cheered  his  spirits  with 
the  piteous  ballade  for  those  about  to  swing  to  the  kites 
and  the  crows  ;  but  the  capital  punishment  was  com- 
muted to  banishment.  Next  winter,  stung  by  the  infi- 
delity and  insults  of  a  woman  to  whom  he  had  abandoned 
himself,  he  fled,  perhaps  to  Angers,  bidding  his  friends  a 
jesting  farewell  in  the  bequests  of  his  Petit  Testament. 
Betrayed  by  one  who  claimed  him  as  an  associate  in 
robbery,  Villon  is  lost  to  view  for  three  years ;  and 
when  we  rediscover  him  in  1461,  it  is  as  a  prisoner, 
whose  six  months'  fare  has  been  bread  and  water  in 
his  cell  at  Meun-sur-Loire.  The  entry  of  Louis  XL, 
recently  consecrated  king,  freed  the  unhappy  captive. 
Before  the  year  closed  he  had  composed  his  capital 
work,  the  Grand  Testament,  and  proved  himself  the 
most  original  poet  of  his  century.  And  then  Villon 
disappears ;  whether  he  died  soon  after,  whether  he 
lived  for  half  a  score  of  years,  we  do  not  know. 

While  he  handles  with  masterly  ease  certain  of  the 
fifteenth-century  forms  of  verse — in  particular  the  bal- 
lade— Villon  is  a  modern  in  his  abandonment  of  the 
traditional  machinery  of  the  imagination,  its  conven- 
tion of  allegories  and  abstractions,  and  those  half-realised 
moralisings  which  were  repeated  from  writer  to  writer ; 
he  is  modern  in  the  intensity  of  a  personal  quality  which 
is  impressed  upon  his  work,  in  the  complexity  of  his 
feelings,  passing  from  mirth  to  despair,  from  beauty 
to  horror,  from  cynical  grossness  to  gracious  memories 
or  aspirations  ;  he  is  modern  in  his  passion  for  the  real, 
and  in  those  gleams  of  ideal  light  which  are  suddenly 
dashed  across  the  vulgar  surroundings  of  his  sorry 
existence.  While  he  flings  out  his  scorn  and  indigna- 
tion against  those  whom  he  regarded  as  his  ill-users, 


ANTOINE  DE  LA  SALLE  65 

or  cries  against  the  injuries  of  fortune,  or  laments  his 
miserable  past,  he  yet  is  a  passionate  lover  of  life  ; 
and  shadowing  beauty  and  youth  and  love  and  life,  he 
is  constantly  aware  of  the  imminent  and  inexorable 
tyranny  of  death.  The  ideas  which  he  expresses  are 
few  and  simple — ideas  common  to  all  men  ;  but  they 
take  a  special  colour  from  his  own  feelings  and  ex- 
periences, and  he  renders  them  with  a  poignancy  which 
is  his  own,  with  a  melancholy  gaiety  and  a  desperate 
imaginative  sincerity.  His  figure  is  so  interesting  in 
itself — that  of  the  enfant  perdu  of  genius — and  so  typical 
of  a  class,  that  the  temptation  to  create  a  Villon  legend 
is  great ;  but  to  magnify  his  proportions  to  those  of  the 
highest  poets  is  to  do  him  wrong.  His  passionate  inten- 
sity within  a  limited  range  is  unsurpassed ;  but  Villon 
wanted  sanity,  and  he  wanted  breadth. 

In  his  direct  inspiration  from  life,  co-operating  with 
an  admirable  skill  and  science  in  literary  form,  Villon 
stands  alone.  For  others — Georges  Chastelain,  Meschinot, 
Molinet,  Cretin — poetry  was  a  cumbrous  form  of  rhetoric, 
regulated  by  the  rules  of  those  arts  of  poetry  which 
during  the  fifteenth  century  appeared  at  not  infrequent 
intervals.  The  grands  rhetoriqueurs  with  their  compli- 
cated measures,  their  pedantic  diction,  their  effete  alle- 
gory, their  points  and  puerilities,  testify  to  the  exhaustion 
of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  to  the  need  of  new  creative 
forces  for  the  birth  of  a  living  literature. 

There  is  life,  however,  in  the  work  of  one  remarkable 
prose-writer  of  the  time  —  ANTOINE  DE  LA  SALLE.  His 
residence  in  Rome  (1422)  had  made  him  acquainted 
with  the  tales  of  the  Italian  novellieri ;  he  was  a  friend 
of  the  learned  and  witty  Poggio  ;  Rene  of  Anjou  en- 
trusted to  him  the  education  of  his  son  ;  when  advanced 


66  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

in  years  he  became  the  author  certainly  of  one  master- 
piece, probably  of  three.  If  he  was  the  writer  of  the 
Quinze  Joies  de  Mariage,  he  knew  how  to  mask  a  rare 
power  of  cynical  observation  under  a  smiling  face  :  the 
Church  had  celebrated  the  fifteen  joys  of  the  Blessed 
Virgin  ;  he  would  ironically  depict  the  fifteen  afflictions 
of  wedded  life,  in  scenes  finely  studied  from  the  domestic 
interior.  How  far  the  Cent  Nouvelles  nouvelles  are  to  be 
ascribed  to  him  is  doubtful ;  it  is  certain  that  these  licen- 
tious tales  reproduce,  with  a  new  skill  in  narrative  prose, 
the  spirit  of  indecorous  mirth  in  their  Italian  models. 
The  Petit  Jehan  de  Saintre  is  certainly  the  work  of 
Antoine  de  la  Salle  ;  the  irony  of  a  realist,  endowed  with 
subtlety  and  grace,  conducts  the  reader  through  chivalric 
exaltations  to  vulgar  disillusion.  The  writer  was  not 
insensible  to  the  charm  of  the  ideals  of  the  past,  but 
he  presents  them  only  in  the  end  to  cover  them  with 
disgrace.  The  anonymous  farce  of  PatJielin,  and  the 
Chronique  de  petit  Jehan  de  Saintre,  are  perhaps  the  most 
instructive  documents  which  we  possess  with  respect  to 
the  moral  temper  of  the  close  of  the  Middle  Ages ;  and 
there  have  been  critics  who  have  ventured  to  ascribe 
both  works  to  the  same  hand. 


II 
THE  DRAMA 

The  mediaeval  drama  in  France,  though  of  early  origin, 
attained  its  full  development  only  when  the  Middle 
Ages  were  approaching  their  term  ;  its  popularity  con- 
tinued during  the  first  half  of  the  sixteenth  century.  It 
waited  for  a  public  ;  with  the  growth  of  industry,  the 


EARLY  DRAMA  67 

uprising  of  the  middle  classes,  it  secured  its  audience, 
and  in  some  measure  filled  the  blank  created  by  the 
disappearance  of  the  chansons  de  geste.  The  survivals  of 
the  drama  of  the  twelfth  and  thirteenth  centuries  are 
few;  the  stream,  as  we  know,  was  flowing,  but  it  ran 
underground. 

The  religious  drama  had  its  origin  in  the  liturgical 
offices  of  the  Church.  At  Christmas  and  at  Easter  the 
birth  and  resurrection  of  the  Saviour  wrere  dramatically 
recited  to  the  people  by  the  clergy,  within  the  conse- 
crated building,  in  Latin  paraphrases  of  the  sacred  text ; 
but,  as  yet,  neither  Jesus  nor  His  mother  appeared  as 
actors  in  the  drama.  By  degrees  the  vernacular  en- 
croached upon  the  Latin  and  displaced  it ;  the  scene 
passed  from  the  church  to  the  public  place  or  street ; 
the  action  developed ;  and  the  actors  were  priests  sup- 
ported by  lay-folk,  or  were  lay-folk  alone. 

The  oldest  surviving  drama  written  in  French  (but 
with  interspersed  liturgical  sentences  of  Latin)  is  of  the 
twelfth  century — the  Representation  d'Adam:  the  fall  of 
man,  and  the  first  great  crime  which  followed — the  death 
of  Abel — are  succeeded  by  the  procession  of  Messianic 
prophets.  It  was  enacted  outside  the  church,  and  the 
spectators  were  alarmed  or  diverted  by  demons  who 
darted  to  and  fro  amidst  the  crowd.  Of  the  thirteenth 
century,  only  two  religious  pieces  remain.  Jean  Bodel, 
of  Arras,  was  the  author  of  Saint  Nicholas.  The  poet, 
himself  about  to  assume  the  cross,  exhibits  a  handful  of 
Crusaders  in  combat  with  the  Mussulmans  ;  all  but  one, 
a  supplicant  of  the  saint,  die  gloriously,  with  angelic 
applause  and  pity ;  whereupon  the  feelings  of  the 
audience  are  relieved  by  the  mirth  and  quarrels  of 
drinkers  in  a  tavern,  who  would  rob  St.  Nicholas  of  the 


68  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

treasure  entrusted  to  his  safeguard;  miracles,  and  general 
conversion  of  the  infidels,  conclude  the  drama.  The 
miracle  of  Theophile,  the  ambitious  priest  who  pawned 
his  soul  to  Satan,  and  through  our  Lady's  intercession 
recovered  his  written  compact,  is  by  the  trouvere  Rute- 
beuf.  These  are  scanty  relics  of  a  hundred  years ;  yet 
their  literary  value  outweighs  that  of  the  forty -two 
Miracles  de  Notre  Dame  of  the  century  which  followed 
— rude  pieces,  often  trivial,  often  absurd  in  their  inci- 
dents, with  mystic  extravagance  sanctifying  their  vulgar 
realism.  They  formed,  with  two  exceptions,  the  dramatic 
repertory  of  some  mediaeval  puy,  an  association  half- 
literary,  half-religious,  devoted  to  the  Virgin's  honour  ; 
their  rhymed  octosyllabic  verse  —  the  special  dramatic 
form — at  times  borders  upon  prose.  One  drama,  and 
only  one,  of  the  fourteenth  century,  chooses  another 
heroine  than  our  Lady — the  Histoire  de  Gristfidis,  which 
presents,  with  pathos  and  intermingling  mirth,  those 
marvels  of  wifely  patience  celebrated  for  other  lands  by 
Boccaccio,  by  Petrarch,  and  by  Chaucer. 

The  fifteenth-century  Mystery  exhibits  the  culmination 
of  the  mediaeval  sacred  drama.  The  word  mysteref  first 
appropriated  to  tableaux  vivants,  is  applied  to  dramatic 
performances  in  the  royal  privilege  which  in  1402 
conferred  upon  the  association  known  as  the  Confrerie 
de  la  Passion  the  right  of  performing  the  plays  of  our 
Redemption.  Before  this  date  the  Blessed  Virgin  and 
the  infant  Jesus  had  appeared  upon  the  scene.  The 
Mystery  presents  the  course  of  sacred  story,  derived 
from  the  Old  and  the  New  Testaments,  together  with 
the  lives  of  the  saints  from  apostolic  times  to  the  days 

1  Derived  from  ministerium  (metier],  but  doubtless  often  drawing  to  itself  a 
sense  suggested  by  the  mysteries  of  religion. 


ARNOUL.  GREBAN  69 

of  St.  Dominic  and  St.  Louis ;  it  even  includes,  in  an 
extended  sense,  subjects  from  profane  history — the  siege 
of  Orleans,  the  destruction  of  Troy — but  such  subjects 
are  of  rare  occurrence  during  the  fifteenth  century. 

For  a  hundred  years,  from  1450  onwards,  an  unbounded 
enthusiasm  for  the  stage  possessed  the  people,  not  of 
Paris  merely,  but  of  all  France.  The  Confreres  de  la 
Passion,  needing  a  larger  repertoire,  found  in  young 
ARNOUL  GREBAN,  bachelor  in  theology,  an  author  whose 
vein  was  copious.  His  Passion]  written  about  the  middle 
of  the  fifteenth  century,  embraces  the  entire  earthly 
life  of  Christ  in  its  thirty-four  thousand  verses,  which 
required  one  hundred  and  fifty  performers  and  four 
crowded  days  for  the  delivery.  Its  presentation  was  an 
unprecedented  event  in  the  history  of  the  theatre.  The 
work  of  Greban  was  rehandled  and  enlarged  by  Jean 
Michel,  and  great  was  the  triumph  when  it  was  given 
at  Angers  in  1486.  Greban  was  not  to  be  outdone 
either  by  his  former  self  or  by  another  dramatist ;  in 
collaboration  with  his  brother  Simon,  he  composed 
the  yet  more  enormous  Actes  des  Apotrcs,  in  sixty-two 
thousand  lines,  demanding  the  services  of  five  hundred 
performers.  When  presented  at  Bourges  as  late  as  1536, 
the  happiness  of  the  spectators  was  extended  over  no 
fewer  than  forty  days.  The  Mystery  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, selecting  whatever  was  supposed  to  typify  or 
foreshadow  the  coming  of  the  Messiah,  is  only  less 
vast,  and  is  not  less  incoherent.  Taken  together,  the 
Mysteries  comprise  over  a  million  verses,  and  what 
remains  is  but  a  portion  of  what  was  written. 

Though  the  literary  value  of  the  Mysteries  is  slight, 
except  in  occasional  passages  of  natural  feeling  or  just 
characterisation,  their  historical  importance  was  great ; 


70  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

they  met  a  national  demand — they  constituted  an  ani- 
mated and  moving  spectacle  of  universal  interest.  A 
certain  unity  they  possessed  in  the  fact  that  everything 
revolved  around  the  central  figure  of  Christ  and  the 
central  theme  of  man's  salvation  ;  but  such  unity  is  only 
to  be  discovered  in  a  broad  and  distant  view.  Near  at 
hand  the  confusion  seems  great.  Their  loose  construction 
and  unwieldy  length  necessarily  endangered  their  exist- 
ence when  a  truer  feeling  for  literary  art  was  developed. 
The  solemnity  of  their  matter  gave  rise  to  a  further 
danger ;  it  demanded  some  relief,  and  that  relief  was 
secured  by  the  juxtaposition  of  comic  scenes  beside 
scenes  of  gravest  import.  Such  comedy  was  occasion- 
ally not  without  grace — a  passage  of  pastoral,  a  song,  a 
nai've  piece  of  gaiety;  but  buffoonery  or  vulgar  riot  was 
more  to  the  taste  of  the  populace.  It  was  pushed  to  the 
furthest  limit,  until  in  1548  the  Parlement  of  Paris 
thought  fit  to  interdict  the  performance  of  sacred 
dramas  which  had  lost  the  sense  of  reverence  and 
even  of  common  propriety.  They  had  scandalised 
serious  Protestants ;  the  Catholics  declined  to  defend 
what  was  indefensible  ;  the  humanists  and  lovers  of 
classical  art  in  Renaissance  days  thought  scorn  of  the 
rude  mediaeval  drama.  Though  it  died  by  violence,  its 
existence  could  hardly  have  been  prolonged  for  many 
years.  But  in  the  days  of  its  popularity  the  performance 
of  a  mystery  set  a  whole  city  in  motion  ;  carpenters, 
painters,  costumiers,  machinists  were  busy  in  prepara- 
tion ;  priests,  scholars,  citizens  rehearsed  their  parts ; 
country  folk  crowded  to  every  hostelry  and  place  of 
lodging.  On  the  day  preceding  the  first  morning  of 
performance  the  personages,  duly  attired  —  Christians, 
Jews,  Saracens,  kings,  knights,  apostles,  priests  —  defiled 


THE  STAGE:    ACTORS  71 

through  the  streets  on  their  way  to  the  cathedral  to 
mass.  The  vast  stage  hard  by  the  church  presented, 
with  primitive  properties,  from  right  to  left,  the  suc- 
cession of  places  —  lake,  mountain,  manger,  prison, 
banquet  -  chamber  —  in  which  the  action  should  be 
imagined;  and  from  one  station  to  another  the  actors 
passed  as  the  play  proceeded.  At  one  end  of  the  stage 
rose  heaven,  where  God  sat  throned ;  at  the  other, 
hell-mouth  gaped,  and  the  demons  entered  or  emerged. 
Music  aided  the  action  ;  the  drama  was  tragedy, 
comedy,  opera,  pantomime  in  one.  The  actors  were 
amateurs  from  every  class  of  society  —  clergy,  scholars, 
tradesmen,  mechanics,  occasionally  members  of  the 
noblesse.  In  Paris  the  Confraternity  of  the  Passion  had 
almost  an  exclusive  right  to  present  these  sacred  plays ; 
in  the  provinces  associations  were  formed  to  carry  out 
the  costly  and  elaborate  performance.  To  the  Confreres 
de  la  Passion — bourgeois  folk  and  artisans — belonged 
the  first  theatre,  and  it  was  they  who  first  presented 
plays  at  regular  intervals.  From  the  Hospital  of  the 
Trinity,  originally  a  shelter  for  pilgrims,  they  migrated 
in  1539  to  the  Hotel  de  Flandres,  and  thence  in  1548  to 
the  Hotel  de  Bourgogne.  Their  famous  place  of  per- 
formance passed  in  time  into  the  hands  of  professional 
actors;  but  it  was  not  until  1676  that  the  Confrerie  ceased 
to  exist. 

Comedy,  unlike  the  serious  drama,  suffered  no  breach 
of  continuity  during  its  long  history.  The  jongleurs 
of  the  Middle  Ages  were  the  immediate  descendants  of 
the  Roman  mirnes  and  histrions ;  their  declamations, 
accompanied  by  gestures,  at  least  tended  towards  the 
dramatic  form.  Classical  comedy  was  never  wholly 
forgotten  in  the  schools ;  the  liturgical  drama  and  the 


72  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

sacred  pieces  developed  from  it  had  an  indirect  influence 
as  encouraging  dramatic  feeling,  and  providing  models 
which  could  be  applied  to  other  uses.  The  earliest 
surviving  jeux  are  of  Arras,  the  work  of  ADAM  DE  LA 
HALLE.  In  the  Jeu  d'Adam  or  de  la  FeuilUe  (c.  1262) 
satirical  studies  of  real  life  mingle  strangely  with  fairy 
fantasy  ;  the  poet  himself,  lamenting  his  griefs  of  wed- 
lock, his  father,  his  friends  are  humorously  introduced  ; 
the  fool  and  the  physician  play  their  laughable  parts  ; 
and  the  three  fay  ladies,  for  whom  the  citizens  have  pre- 
pared a  banquet  under  la  fenillce,  grant  or  refuse  the 
wishes  of  the  mortal  folk  in  the  traditional  manner  of 
enchantresses  amiable  or  perverse.  The  Jeu  de  Robin  et 
Marion — first  performed  at  Naples  in  1283 — is  a  pastoral 
comic  opera,  with  music,  song,  and  dance  ;  the  good 
Marion  is  loyal  to  her  rustic  lover,  and  puts  his  rival, 
her  cavalier  admirer,  to  shame.  These  were  happy 
inventions  happily  executed ;  but  they  stand  alone.  It 
is  not  until  we  reach  the  fifteenth  century  that  mediaeval 
comedy,  in  various  forms,  attained  its  true  evolution. 

The  Moralities,  of  which  sixty -five  survive,  dating, 
almost  all,  from  1450  to  1550,  differed  from  the  Myste- 
ries in  the  fact  that  their  purpose  was  rather  didactic 
than  religious  ;  as  a  rule  they  handled  neither  historical 
nor  legendary  matter;  they  freely  employed  allegorical 
personification  after  the  fashion  of  the  Roman  de  la 
Rose.  The  general  type  is  well  exemplified  in  Bien- 
Avise,  Mai-Avis^  a  kind  of  dramatic  Pilgrim's  Pro- 
gress, with  two  pilgrims  —  one  who  is  instructed  in 
the  better  way  by  all  the  personified  powers  which 
make  for  righteousness ;  the  other  finding  his  com- 
panions on  the  primrose  path,  and  arriving  at  the 
everlasting  bonfire.  Certain  Moralities  attack  a  par- 


MORALITIES  73 

ticular  vice — gluttony  or  blasphemy,  or  the  dishonouring 
of  parents.  From  satirising  the  social  vices  of  the  time, 
the  transition  was  easy  to  political  satire  or  invective. 
In  the  sixteenth  century  both  the  partisans  of  the  Re- 
formation and  the  adherents  to  the  traditional  creed 
employed  the  Morality  as  a  medium  for  ecclesiastical 
polemics.  Sometimes  treating  of  domestic  manners  and 
morals,  it  became  a  kind  of  bourgeois  drama,  presenting 
the  conditions  under  which  character  is  formed.  Some- 
times again  it  approached  the  farce :  two  lazy  mendicants, 
one  blind,  the  other  lame,  fear  that  they  may  suffer  a  cure 
and  lose  their  trade  through  the  efficacy  of  the  relics 
of  St.  Martin  ;  the  halt,  mounted  on  the  other's  back, 
directs  his  fellow  in  their  flight ;  by  ill  luck  they  encoun- 
ter the  relic-bearers,  and  are  restored  in  eye  and  limb ; 
the  recovered  cripple  swears  and  rages  ;  but  the  man 
born  blind,  ravished  by  the  wonders  of  the  world,  breaks 
forth  in  praise  to  God.  The  higher  Morality  naturally 
selected  types  of  character  for  satire  or  commendation. 
It  is  easy  to  perceive  how  such  a  comic  art  as  that  of 
Moliere  lay  in  germ  in  this  species  of  the  mediaeval 
drama.  At  a  late  period  examples  are  found  of  the  his- 
torical Morality.  The  pathetic  I'Empereur  qui  tua  son 
Neveu  exhibits  in  its  action  and  its  stormy  emotion 
something  of  tragic  power.  The  advent  of  the  pseudo- 
classical  tragedy  of  the  Pleiade  checked  the  development 
of  this  species.  The  very  name  "  Morality "  disappears 
from  the  theatre  after  1550. 

The  sottte,  like  the  Morality,  was  a  creation  of  the 
fifteenth  century.  Whether  it  had  its  origin  in  a  laicis- 
ing of  the  irreverent  celebration  of  the  Feast  of  Fools, 
or  in  that  parade  of  fools  which  sometimes  preceded  a 
Mystery,  it  was  essentially  a  farce,  but  a  farce  in  which 


74  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

the  performers,  arrayed  in  motley,  and  wearing  the  long- 
eared  cap,  distributed  between  them  the  several  roles  of 
human  folly.  Associations  of  sots,  known  in  Paris  as 
Enfants  sans  Souci,  known  in  other  cities  by  other  names, 
presented  the  unwisdom  or  madness  of  the  world  in 
parody.  The  sottie  at  times  rose  from  a  mere  diversion 
to  satire  ;  like  the  Morality,  it  could  readily  adapt  itself 
to  political  criticism.  The  Gens  Nonveaux,  belonging 
perhaps  to  the  reign  of  Louis  XL,  mocks  the  hypocrisy 
of  those  sanguine  reformers  who  promise  to  create  the 
world  anew  on  a  better  model,  and  yet,  after  all,  have 
no  higher  inspiration  than  that  old  greed  for  gold  and 
power  and  pleasure  which  possessed  their  predecessors. 
Louis  XI L,  who  permitted  free  comment  on  public  affairs 
from  actors  on  the  stage,  himself  employed  the  poet 
Pierre  Gringoire  to  satirise  his  adversary  the  Pope.  In 
1512  thejeu  du  Prince  des  Sots  was  given  in  Paris  ;  Grin- 
goire, the  Mere-Sotte,  but  wearing  the  Papal  robes  to 
conceal  for  a  time  the  garb  of  folly,  discharged  a  prin- 
cipal part.  Such  dangerous  pleasantries  as  this  were 
vigorously  restrained  by  Francois  I. 

A  dramatic  monologue  or  a  sermon  joyeux  was  com- 
monly interposed  between  the  sottie  and  the  Morality  or 
miracle  which  followed.  The  sermon  parodied  in  verse 
the  pulpit  discourses  of  the  time,  with  text  duly  an- 
nounced, the  customary  scholastic  divisions,  and  an 
incredible  licence  in  matter  and  in  phrase.  Among  the 
dramatic  monologues  of  the  fifteenth  century  is  found 
at  least  one  little  masterpiece,  which  has  been  ascribed 
on  insufficient  grounds  to  Villon,  and  which  would  do 
no  discredit  to  that  poet's  genius — the  Franc- Archer  de 
Bagnolet.  The  francs-archers  of  Charles  VII. — a  rural 
militia — were  not  beloved  of  the  people  ;  the  miles 


FARCES  75 

gloriosus  of  Bagnolet  village,  boasting  largely  of  his 
valour,  encounters  a  stuffed  scarecrow,  twisting  to  the 
wind  ;  his  alarms,  humiliations,  and  final  triumph  are 
rendered  in  a  monologue  which  expounds  the  action 
of  the  piece  with  admirable  spirit. 

If  the  Mystery  served  to  fill  the  void  left  by  the  national 
epopee,  the  farce  may  be  regarded  as  to  some  extent  the 
dramatic  inheritor  of  the  spirit  of  the  fabliau.  It  aims 
at  mirth  and  laughter  for  their  own  sakes,  without  any 
purpose  of  edification  ;  it  had,  like  the  fabliau,  the  merit 
of  brevity,  and  not  infrequently  the  fault  of  unabashed 
grossness.  But  the  very  fact  that  it  was  a  thing  of  little 
consequence  allowed  the  farce  to  exhibit  at  times  an 
audacity  of  political  or  ecclesiastical  criticism  which 
transformed  it  into  a  dramatised  pamphlet.  In  general 
it  chose  its  matter  from  the  ludicrous  misadventures  of 
private  life  :  the  priest,  the  monk,  the  husband,  the 
mother-in-law,  the  wife,  the  lover,  the  roguish  servant 
are  the  agents  in  broadly  ludicrous  intrigues ;  the 
young  wife  lords  it  over  her  dotard  husband,  and  makes 
mockery  of  his  presumptive  heirs,  in  La  Cornette  of  Jean 
d'Abondance  ;  in  Le  Cuvier,  the  husband,  whose  many 
household  duties  have  been  scheduled,  has  his  revenge 
— the  list,  which  he  deliberately  recites  while  his  wife 
flounders  helpless  in  the  great  washing-tub,  does  not 
include  the  task  of  effecting  her  deliverance. 

Amid  much  that  is  trivial  and  much  that  is  indecent, 
one  farce  stands  out  pre-eminent,  and  may  indeed  be 
called  a  comedy  of  manners  and  of  character — the 
merry  misfortunes  of  that  learned  advocate,  Maitre 
Pierre  Pathdin.  The  date  is  doubtless  about  1470 ; 
the  author,  probably  a  Parisian  and  a  member  of  the 
Basoche,  is  unknown.  With  all  his  toiling  and  cheat- 


76  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

ing,  Pathelin  is  poor  ;  with  infinite  art  and  spirit  he 
beguiles  the  draper  of  the  cloth  which  will  make 
himself  a  coat  and  his  faithful  Guillemette  a  gown ; 
when  the  draper,  losing  no  time,  comes  for  his 
money  and  an  added  dinner  of  roast  goose,  behold 
Maitre  Pathelin  is  in  a  raging  fever,  raving  in  every 
dialect.  Was  the  purchase  of  his  cloth  a  dream,  or 
work  of  the  devil  ?  To  add  to  the  worthy  trades- 
man's ill-luck,  his  shepherd  has  stolen  his  wool  and 
eaten  his  sheep.  The  dying  Pathelin  unexpectedly 
appears  in  court  to  defend  the  accused,  and  having 
previously  advised  his  client  to  affect  idiocy  and  reply 
to  all  questions  with  the  senseless  utterance  bee,  he 
triumphantly  wins  the  case  ;  but  the  tables  are  turned 
when  Master  Pathelin  demands  his  fee,  and  can  obtain 
no  other  response  than  bee  from  the  instructed  shepherd. 
The  triumph  of  rogue  over  rogue  is  the  only  moral  of 
the  piece  ;  it  is  a  satire  on  fair  dealing  and  justice,  and, 
though  the  morals  of  a  farce  are  not  to  be  gravely  in- 
sisted on,  such  morals  as  Maitre  Pathelin  presents  agree 
well  with  the  spirit  of  the  age  which  first  enjoyed  this 
masterpiece  of  caricature. 

The  actors  in  mediaeval  comedy,  as  in  the  serious 
drama,  were  amateurs.  The  members  of  the  academic 
puys  were  succeeded  by  the  members  of  guilds,  or  con- 
fre'ries,  or  societes  joyeuses.  Of  these  societies  the  most 
celebrated  was  that  of  the  Parisian  Enfants  sans  Souci. 
With  this  were  closely  associated  the  Basochiens,  the  cor- 
poration of  clerks  to  the  procureurs  of  the  Parlement  of 
Paris.1  It  may  be  that  the  sots  of  the  capital  were  only 
members  of  the  basoche,  assuming  for  the  occasion  the 

1  This  corporation,  known  as  the  Royanme  de  la  Basoche  (basi/ica),  was 
probably  as  old  as  the  fourteenth  century. 


ACTORS  OF  COMEDY  77 

motley  garb.  In  colleges,  scholars  performed  at  first  in 
Latin  plays,  but  from  the  fifteenth  century  in  French.  At 
the  same  time,  troupes  of  performers  occasionally  moved 
from  city  to  city,  exhibiting  a  Mystery,  but  they  did  not 
hold  together  when  the  occasion  had  passed.  Profes- 
sional comedians  were  brought  from  Italy  to  Lyons  in 
1548,  for  the  entertainment  of  Henri  II.  and  Catherine 
de  Medicis.  From  that  date  companies  of  French  actors 
appear  to  become  numerous.  New  species  of  the  drama 
—  tragedy,  comedy,  pastoral  —  replace  the  mediaeval 
forms ;  but  much  of  the  genius  of  French  classical 
comedy  is  a  development  from  the  Morality,  the  sottte, 
and  the  farce.  To  present  these  newer  forms  the  service 
of  trained  actors  was  required.  During  the  last  quarter 
of  the  sixteenth  century  the  amateur  performers  of  the 
ancient  drama  finally  disappear. 


BOOK   THE    SECOND 
THE    SIXTEENTH    CENTURY 


BOOK    THE    SECOND 
THE    SIXTEENTH    CENTURY 

CHAPTER    I 

RENAISSANCE  AND  REFORMATION 

THE  literature  of  the  sixteenth  century  is  dominated  by 
two  chief  influences — that  of  the  Renaissance  and  that  of 
the  Reformation.  When  French  armies  under  Charles 
VIII.  and  Louis  XII.  made  a  descent  on  Italy,  they  found 
everywhere  a  recognition  of  the  importance  of  art,  an 
enthusiasm  for  beauty,  a  feeling  for  the  aesthetic  as 
well  as  the  scholarly  aspects  of  antiquity,  a  new  joy  in 
life,  an  universal  curiosity,  a  new  confidence  in  human 
reason.  To  Latin  culture  a  Greek  culture  had  been 
added ;  and  side  by  side  with  the  mediaeval  master  of 
the  understanding,  Aristotle,  the  master  of  the  imagina- 
tive reason,  Plato,  was  held  in  honour.  Before  the 
first  quarter  of  the  sixteenth  century  closed,  France 
had  received  a  great  gift  from  Italy,  which  profoundly 
modified,  but  by  no  means  effaced,  the  characteristics  of 
her  national  genius.  The  Reformation  was  a  recovery 
of  Christian  antiquity  and  of  Hebraism,  and  for  a  time 
(.he  religious  movement  made  common  cause  with  the 

81 


82  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

Renaissance ;  but  the  grave  morals,  the  opposition  of 
grace  to  nature,  and  the  dogmatic  spirit  of  theology 
after  a  time  alienated  the  Reforming  party  from  the 
mere  humanism  of  literature  and  art.  An  interest  in 
general  ideas  and  a  capacity  for  dealing  with  them  were 
fostered  by  the  study  of  antiquity  both  classical  and 
Christian,  by  the  meeting  of  various  tendencies,  and  by 
the  conflict  of  rival  creeds.  To  embody  general  ideas 
in  art  under  a  presiding  feeling  for  beauty,  to  harmonise 
thought  and  form,  was  the  great  work  of  the  seventeenth 
century  ;  but  before  this  could  be  effected  it  was  neces- 
sary that  France  should  enjoy  tranquillity  after  the  strife 
of  the  civil  wars. 

Learning  had  received  the  distinction  of  court  patron- 
age when  Louis  XII.  appointed  the  great  scholar  Budc 
his  secretary.  Around  Francis  I.,  although  he  was  him- 
self rather  a  lover  of  the  splendour  and  ornament  of 
the  Renaissance  than  of  its  finer  spirit,  men  of  learning 
and  poets  gathered.  On  the  suggestion  of  GUILLAUME 
BUDE  he  endowed  professorships  of  Hebrew,  Greek, 
and  Latin,  to  which  were  added  those  of  medicine, 
mathematics,  and  philosophy  (1530-40),  and  in  this 
projected  foundation  of  the  College  de  France  an  im- 
portant step  was  made  towards  the  secularisation  of 
learned  studies.  The  King's  sister,  MARGUERITE  OF 
NAVARRE  (1492-1549),  perhaps  the  most  accomplished 
woman  of  her  time,  represents  more  admirably  than 
Francis  the  genius  of  the  age.  She  studied  Latin, 
Italian,  Spanish,  German,  Hebrew,  and,  when  forty, 
occupied  herself  with  Greek.  Her  heart  was  ardent 
as  well  as  her  intellect ;  she  was  gay  and  mundane, 
and  at  the  same  time  she  was  serious  (with  even  a 
strain  of  mystical  emotion)  in  her  concern  for  religion. 


MARGUERITE  OF  NAVARRE  83 

Although  not  in  communion  with  the  Reformers,  she 
sympathised  with  them,  and  extended  a  generous  pro- 
tection to  those  who  incurred  danger  through  their  liberal 
opinions.  Her  poems,  Marguerites  de  la  Marguerite  des 
Princesses  (1547),  show  the  mediaeval  influences  forming 
a  junction  with  those  of  the  Renaissance.  Some  are 
religious,  but  side  by  side  with  her  four  dramatic  Mys- 
teries and  her  eloquent  Triomphe  de  I' Agneau  appears 
the  Histoire  des  Satyres  et  NympJies  de  Diane,  imitated 
from  the  Italian  of  Sannazaro.  Among  her  latest 
poems,  which  remained  in  manuscript  until  1896,  are 
a  pastoral  dramatic  piece  expressing  her  grief  for  the 
death  of  her  brother  Francis  I. ;  a  second  dramatic 
poem,  Comedie  jouee  au  Mont  de  Marsan,  in  which  love 
(human  or  divine)  triumphs  over  the  spirit  of  the  world, 
over  superstitious  asceticism,  and  over  the  wiser  temper 
of  religious  mcderation.  Les  Prisons  tells  in  allegory  of 
her  servitude  to  passion,  to  worldly  ambition,  and  to  the 
desire  for  human  knowledge,  until  at  last  the  divine 
love  brought  her  deliverance.  The  union  of  the  mun- 
dane and  the  moral  spirit  is  singularly  shown  in  Mar- 
guerite's collection  of  prose  tales,  written  in  imitation  of 
Boccaccio,  the  Heptameron  des  Nouvelles  (1558). 

These  tales  were  not  an  indiscretion  of  youth  ;  pro- 
bably Marguerite  composed  them  a  few  years  before  her 
death  ;  perhaps  their  licence  and  wanton  mirth  were 
meant  to  enliven  the  melancholy  hours  of  her  beloved 
brother ;  certainly  the  writer  is  ingenious  in  extracting 
edifying  lessons  from  narratives  which  do  not  promise 
edification.  They  are  not  so  gross  as  other  writings  of 
the  time,  and  this  is  Marguerite's  true  defence  ;  to  laugh 
at  the  immoralities  of  monks  and  priests  was  a  tradition 
in  literature  which  neither  the  spirit  of  the  Renaissance 


84  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

nor  that  of  the  Reformation  condemned.  A  company 
of  ladies  and  gentlemen,  detained  by  floods  on  their 
return  from  the  Pyrenean  baths,  beguile  the  time  by 
telling  these  tales,  and  the  pious  widow  Dame  Oisille 
gives  excellent  assistance  in  showing  how  they  tend  to 
a  moral  purpose.  The  series,  designed  to  equal  in 
number  the  tales  of  the  Decameron,  is  incomplete. 
Possibly  Marguerite  was  aided  by  some  one  or  more 
of  the  authors  of  whom  she  was  the  patroness  and  pro- 
tector; but  no  sufficient  evidence  exists  for  the  ascription 
of  the  Heptamfo-on  to  Bonaventure  des  Periers. 

Among  the  poets  whom  Marguerite  received  with 
favour  at  her  court  was  CL£MENT  MAROT,  the  versifier, 
as  characterised  by  Boileau,  of  "elegant  badinage." 
His  predecessors  and  early  contemporaries  in  the  open- 
ing years  of  the  sixteenth  century  continued  the  manner 
of  the  so-called  rhetoriqueurs,  who  endeavoured  to  main- 
tain allegory,  now  decrepit  or  effete,  with  the  aid  of 
ingenuities  of  versification  and  pedantry  of  diction  ;  or 
else  they  carried  on  something  of  the  more  living  tradi- 
tion of  Villon  or  of  Coquillard.  Among  the  former, 
Jean  le  Maire  de  Beiges  deserves  to  be  remembered 
less  for  his  verse  than  for  his  prose  work,  Illustrations 
de  Gaitle  et  Singularitez  de  Troie,  in  which  the  Trojan 
origin  of  the  French  people  is  set  forth  with  some 
feeling  for  beauty  and  a  mass  of  crude  erudition. 
Clement  Marot,  born  at  Cahors  in  1495  or  1496,  a 
poet's  son,  was  for  a  time  in  the  service  of  Francis  I. 
as  valet  de  chambre,  and  accompanied  his  master  to 
the  battle  of  Pavia,  where  he  was  wounded  and  made 
prisoner.  Pursued  by  the  Catholics  as  a  heretic,  and 
afterwards  by  the  Genevan  Calvinists  as  a  libertine, 
he  was  protected  as  long  as  was  possible  by  the  King 


CLEMENT  MAROT  85 

and   by  his   sister.      He   died   at   Turin,    a    refugee   to 
Italy,  in  1544. 

In  his  literary  origins  Marot  belongs  to  the  Middle 
Ages ;  he  edited  the  Roman  de  la  Rose  and  the  works 
of  Villon  ;  his  immediate  masters  were  the  grands  rheto- 
riqueurs ;  but  the  spirit  of  the  Renaissance  and  his 
own  genius  delivered  him  from  the  oppression  of  their 
authority,  and  his  intellect  was  attracted  by  the  revolt 
and  the  promise  of  freedom  found  in  the  Reforming 
party.  A  light  and  pleasure -loving  nature,  a  temper 
which  made  the  prudent  conduct  of  life  impossible, 
exposed  him  to  risks,  over  which,  aided  by  protectors 
whom  he  knew  how  to  flatter  with  a  delicate  grace, 
he  glided  without  fatal  mishap.  He  did  not  bring 
to  poetry  depth  of  passion  or  solidity  of  thought ; 
he  brought  what  was  needed — a  bright  intelligence,  a 
sense  of  measure  and  proportion,  grace,  gaiety,  esprit. 
Escaping,  after  his  early  Temple  de  Cupido,  from  the 
allegorising  style,  he  learned  to  express  his  personal 
sentiments,  and  something  of  the  gay,  bourgeois  spirit 
of  France,  with  aristocratic  distinction.  His  poetry  of 
the  court  and  of  occasion  has  lost  its  savour ;  but  when 
he  writes  familiarly  (as  in  the  Epitre  au  Roi  pour  avoir 
ete  derobe],  or  tells  a  short  tale  (like  the  fable  of  the  rat 
and  the  lion),  he  is  charmingly  bright  and  natural.  None 
of  his  poems — elegies,  epistles,  satires,  songs,  epigrams, 
rondeaux,  pastorals,  ballades — overwhelm  us  by  their 
length  ;  he  was  not  a  writer  of  vast  imaginative  ambi- 
tions. His  best  epigrams  are  masterpieces  in  their  kind, 
with  happy  turns  of  thought  and  expression  in  which 
art  seems  to  have  the  ease  of  nature.  The  satirical 
epistle  supposed  to  be  sent,  not  by  Marot,  but  by  his 
valet,  to  Marot's  adversary,  Sagon,  is  spirited  in  its 


86  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

insolence.  L'Enfer  is  a  satiric  outbreak  of  indignation 
suggested  by  his  imprisonment  in  the  Chatelet  on  the 
charge  of  heresy.  His  versified  translation  of  forty-nine 
Psalms  added  to  his  glory,  and  brought  him  the  honour 
of  personal  danger  from  the  hostility  of  the  Sorbonne  ; 
but  to  attempt  such  a  translation  is  to  aim  at  what  is 
impossible.  His  gift  to  French  poetry  is  especially  a 
gift  of  finer  art — firm  and  delicate  expression,  felicity  in 
rendering  a  thought  or  a  feeling,  certainty  and  grace 
in  poetic  evolution,  skill  in  handling  the  decasyllabic 
line.  A  great  poet  Marot  was  not,  and  could  not  be  ; 
but,  coming  at  a  fortunate  moment,  his  work  served 
literature  in  important  ways ;  it  was  a  return  from 
laboured  rhetoric  to  nature.  In  the  classical  age  his 
merit  was  recognised  by  La  Bruyere,  and  the  author 
of  the  Fables  and  the  Contes — in  some  respects  a  kindred 
spirit — acknowledged  a  debt  to  Marot. 

From  Marot  as  a  poet  much  was  learned  by  Marguerite 
of  Navarre.  Of  his  contemporaries,  who  were  also  dis- 
ciples, the  most  distinguished  was  MELIN  DE  SAINT- 
GELAIS,  and  on  the  master's  death  Melin  passed  for 
an  eminent  poet.  We  can  regard  him  now  more  justly, 
as  one  who  in  slender  work  sought  for  elegance,  and  fell 
into  a  mannered  prettiness.  While  preserving  something 
of  the  French  spirit,  he  suffered  from  the  frigid  ingenui- 
ties which  an  imitation  of  Italian  models  suggested  to 
him;  but  it  cannot  be  forgotten  that  Saint-Gelais  brought 
the  sonnet  from  Italy  into  French  poetry.  The  school 
of  Marot,  ambitious  in  little  things,  affected  much  the 
blason,  which  celebrates  an  eyebrow,  a  lip,  a  bosom, 
a  jewel,  a  flower,  a  precious  stone  ;  lyrical  inspiration 
was  slender,  but  clearness  and  grace  were  worth  at- 
taining, and  the  conception  of  poetry  as  a  fine  art 


RABELAIS  87 

served    to    lead    the    way   towards    Ronsard    and    the 
Pleiade. 

The  most  powerful  personality  in  literature  of  the 
first  half  of  the  sixteenth  century  was  not  a  poet,  though 
he  wrote  verses,  but  a  great  creator  in  imaginative  prose, 
great  partly  by  virtue  of  his  native  genius,  partly  because 
the  sap  of  the  new  age  of  enthusiasm  for  science  and 
learning  was  thronging  in  his  veins — FRANgois  RABELAIS. 
Born  about  1490  or  1495,  at  Chinon,  in  Touraine,  of 
parents  in  a  modest  station,  he  received  his  education 
in  the  village  of  Seuille  and  at  the  convent  of  La  Bau- 
mette.  He  revolted  against  the  routine  of  the  schools,  and 
longed  for  some  nutriment  more  succulent  and  savoury. 
For  fifteen  years  he  lived  as  a  Franciscan  monk  in  the 
cell  and  cloisters  of  the  monastery  at  Fontenay-le-Comte. 
In  books,  but  not  those  of  a  monastic  library,  he  found 
salvation  ;  mathematics,  astronomy,  law,  Latin,  Greek 
consoled  him  during  his  period  of  uncongenial  seclu- 
sion. His  criminal  companions — books  which  might  be 
suspected  of  heresy — were  sequestrated.  The  young 
Bishop  of  Maillezais  —  his  friend  Geoffroy  d'Estissac, 
who  had  aided  his  studies — and  the  great  scholar  Bude 
came  to  his  rescue,  and  passing  first,  by  favour  of  the 
Pope,  to  the  Benedictine  abbey  of  Maillezais,  before 
long  he  quitted  the  cloister,  and,  as  a  secular  priest, 
began  his  wanderings  of  a  scholar  in  search  of  universal 
knowledge.  In  1530-31  he  was  at  Montpellier,  study- 
ing medicine  and  lecturing  on  medical  works  of  Hippo- 
crates and  Galen  ;  next  year,  at  Lyons,  one  of  the  learned 
group  gathered  around  the  great  printers  of  that  city, 
he  practised  his  art  of  physic  in  the  public  hospital,  and 
was  known  as  a  scientific  author.  Towards  the  close  of 
1532  he  re-edited  the  popular  romance  Chroniques  Gar- 
7 


88  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

gantuincs,  which  tells  the  adventures  of  the  "  enormous 
giant  Gargantua."  It  was  eagerly  read,  and  brought 
laughter  to  the  lips  of  Master  Rabelais'  patients.  Learn- 
ing, he  held,  was  good,  but  few  things  in  this  world  are 
wholesomer  than  laughter.  The  success  of  the  Chro- 
niques  seems  to  have  moved  him  to  write  a  continuation, 
and  in  1533  appeared  Pantagruel t  the  story  of  the  deeds 
and  prowess  of  Gargantua's  giant  son,  newly  composed 
by  Alcofribas  Nasier,  an  anagram  which  concealed  the 
name  of  Francois  Rabelais.  It  forms  the  second  of  the 
five  books  which  make  up  its  author's  famous  work.  A 
recast  or  rather  a  new  creation  of  the  Chronicles  of 
Gargantua,  replacing  the  original  Chroniqucs,  followed 
in  1535.  It  was  not  until  1546  and  1552  that  the  second 
and — in  its  complete  form — the  third  books  of  Pantagruel 
appeared,  and  the  authorship  was  acknowledged.  The 
last  book  was  posthumous  (1562  in  part,  1564  in  full), 
and  the  inferiority  of  style,  together  with  the  more  bitter 
spirit  of  its  satire,  have  led  many  critics  to  the  opinion 
that  it  is  only  in  part  from  the  hand  of  the  great  and  wise 
humourist. 

Rabelais  was  in  Rome  in  1534,  and  again  in  1535,  as 
physician  to  the  French  ambassador,  Jean  du  Bellay, 
Bishop  of  Paris.  He  pursued  his  scientific  studies  in 
medicine  and  botany,  took  lessons  in  Arabic,  and  had 
all  a  savant's  intelligent  curiosity  for  the  remains  of 
antiquity.  Some  years  of  his  life  were  passed  in  wan- 
dering from  one  French  university  to  another.  Fearing 
the  hostility  of  the  Sorbonne,  during  the  last  illness  of 
his  protector  Francis  L,  he  fled  to  the  imperial  city  of 
Metz.  He  was  once  again  in  Rome  with  Cardinal  du 
Bellay,  in  1549.  Next  year  the  author  of  Pantagruel 
was  appointed  cure  of  Meudon,  near  Paris,  but,  perhaps 


RABELAIS  89 

as  a  concession  to  publio  opinion,  he  resigned  his  clerical 
charges  on  the  eve  of  the  publication  of  his  fourth  book. 
Rabelais  died  probably  in  1552  or  1553,  aged  about  sixty 
years. 

On  his  death  it  might  well  have  been  said  that  the 
gaiety  of  nations  was  eclipsed ;  but  to  his  contemporaries 
Rabelais  appeared  less  as  the  enormous  humourist,  the 
buffoon  Homer,  than  as  a  great  scholar  and  man  of 
science,  whose  bright  temper  and  mirthful  conversation 
wrere  in  no  way  inconsistent  with  good  sense,  sound 
judgment,  and  even  a  habit  of  moderation.  It  is  thus 
that  he  should  still  be  regarded.  Below  his  laughter  lay 
wisdom;  below  his  orgy  of  grossness  lay  a  noble  ideality; 
below  the  extravagances  of  his  imagination  lay  the  equi- 
librium of  a  spirit  sane  and  strong.  The  life  that  was 
in  him  was  so  abounding  and  exultant  that  it  broke  all 
dikes  and  dams  ;  and  laughter  for  him  needed  no  justifi- 
cation, it  was  a  part  of  this  abounding  life.  After  the 
medieval  asceticism  and  the  intellectual  bondage  of 
scholasticism,  life  in  Rabelais  has  its  vast  outbreak  and 
explosion  ;  he  would  be  no  fragment  of  humanity,  but 
a  complete  man.  He  would  enjoy  the  world  to  the  full, 
and  yet  at  the  same  time  there  is  something  of  stoicism 
in  his  philosophy  of  life  ;  while  gaily  accepting  the  good 
things  of  the  earth,  he  would  hold  himself  detached  from 
the  gifts  of  fortune,  and  possess  his  soul  in  a  strenuous 
sanity.  Let  us  return — such  is  his  teaching — to  nature, 
honouring  the  body,  but  giving  higher  honour  to  the 
intellect  and  to  the  moral  feeling ;  let  us  take  life  seri- 
ously, and  therefore  gaily  ;  let  us  face  death  cheerfully, 
knowing  that  we  do  not  wholly  die  ;  with  light  in  the 
understanding  and  love  in  the  heart,  we  can  confront  all 
dangers  and  defy  all  doubts. 


90  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

He  is  the  creator  of  characters  which  are  types.  His 
giants — Grandgousier,  Gargantua,  Pantagruel — are  giants 
of  good  sense  and  large  benevolence.  The  education  of 
Pantagruel  presents  the  ideal  pedagogy  of  the  Renais- 
sance, an  education  of  the  whole  man — mind  and  body 
—in  contrast  with  the  dwarfing  subtleties  and  word- 
spinning  of  the  effete  mediaeval  schools.  Friar  John  is 
the  monk  whose  passion  for  a  life  of  activity  cannot  be 
restrained  ;  his  violence  is  the  overflow  of  wholesome 
energy.  It  is  to  his  care  that  the  Abbey  of  Thelema  is 
confided,  where  young  men  and  maidens  are  to  be  occu- 
pied with  every  noble  toil  and  every  high  delight,  an 
abbey  whose  rule  has  but  a  single  clause  (since  goodness 
has  no  rule  save  freedom),  "  Do  what  you  will."  Of  such 
a  fraternity,  love  and  marriage  are  the  happiest  out- 
come. Panurge,  for  whom  the  suggestion  was  derived 
from  the  macaronic  poet  Folengo,  is  the  fellow  of  Shake- 
speare's Falstaff,  in  his  lack  of  morals,  his  egoism,  his 
inexhaustible  wit  ;  he  is  the  worst  and  best  of  company. 
We  would  dispense  with  such  a  disreputable  associate 
if  we  could,  but  save  that  he  is  a  "very  wicked  lewd 
rogue,"  he  is  "the  most  virtuous  man  in  the  world," 
and  we  cannot  part  with  him.  Panurge  would  marry, 
but  fears  lest  he  may  be  the  victim  of  a  faithless  wife  ; 
every  mode  of  divination,  every  source  of  prediction 
except  one  is  resorted  to,  and  still  his  fate  hangs 
threatening  ;  it  only  remains  to  consult  the  oracle  of 
La  Dive  Bouteille.  The  voyaging  quest  is  long  and 
perilous ;  in  each  island  at  which  the  adventurers 
touch,  some  social  or  ecclesiastical  abuse  is  exhibited 
for  ridicule ;  the  word  of  the  oracle  is  in  the  end 
the  mysterious  "  Drink "  —  drink,  that  is,  if  one  may 
venture  to  interpret  an  oracle,  of  the  pure  water 


BONAVENTURE  DES  PERIERS  91 

of  wisdom  and  knowledge,  and  let  the  unknown 
future  rest. 

The  obscenity  and  ordure  of  Rabelais  were  to  the  taste 
of  his  time  ;  his  severer  censures  of  Church  and  State 
were  disguised  by  his  buffoonery  ;  flinging  out  his  good 
sense  and  wise  counsels  with  a  liberal  hand,  he  also 
wields  vigorously  the  dunghill  pitchfork.  If  he  is  gross 
beyond  what  can  be  described,  he  is  not,  apart  from  the 
evil  of  such  grossness,  a  cofrupter  of  morals,  unless 
morals  be  corrupted  by  a  belief  in  the  goodness  of  the 
natural  man.  The  graver  wrongs  of  his  age — wars  of 
ambition,  the  abuse  of  public  justice,  the  hypocrisies, 
cruelties,  and  lethargy  of  the  ecclesiastics,  distrust  of  the 
intellectual  movement,  spurious  ideals  of  life — are  vigor- 
ously condemned.  Rabelais  loves  goodness,  charity, 
truth  ;  he  pleads  for  the  right  of  manhood  to  a  full  and 
free  development  of  all  its  powers  ;  and  if  questions  of 
original  sin  and  divine  grace  trouble  him  little,  and  his 
creed  has  some  of  the  hardihood  of  the  Renaissance,  he 
is  full  of  filial  gratitude  to  le  bon  Dieu  for  His  gift  of  life, 
and  of  a  world  in  which  to  live  strongly  should  be  to 
live  joyously. 

The  influence  of  Rabelais  is  seen  in  the  writers  of 
prose  tales  who  were  his  contemporaries  and  successors  ; 
but  they  want  his  broad  good  sense  and  real  tem- 
perance. BONAVENTURE  DES  PERIERS,  whom  Marguerite 
of  Navarre  favoured,  and  whose  Nouvelles  Recreations, 
with  more  of  the  tradition  of  the  French  fabliaux  and 
farces  and  less  of  the  Italian  manner,  have  something 
in  common  with  the  stories  of  the  Heptameron,  died  in 
desperation  by  his  own  hand  about  1543.  His  Lucianic 
dialogues  which  compose  the  Cymbalum  Mmidi  show 
the  audacity  of  scepticism  which  the  new  ideas  of  the 


92  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

Renaissance  engendered  in  ill-balanced  spirits.  With 
all  his  boldness  and  ardour  Rabelais  exercised  a  certain 
discretion,  and  in  revising  his  own  text  clearly  exhibited 
a  desire  to  temper  valour  with  prudence. 

It  is  remarkable  that  just  at  the  time  when  Rabelais 
published  the  second  and  best  book  of  his  Pantagruel,  in 
which  the  ideality  and  the  realism  of  the  Renaissance 
blossom  to  the  full,  there  was  a  certain  revival  of  the 
chivalric  romance.  The  Spanish  Amadis  des  Gaules 
(1540-48),  translated  by  Herberay  des  Essarts,  was  a 
distant  echo  of  the  Romances  of  the  Round  Table.  The 
gallant  achievements  of  courtly  knights,  their  mystical 
and  platonic  loves,  were  a  delight  to  Francis  I.,  and 
charmed  a  whole  generation.  Thus,  for  the  first  time, 
the  literature  of  Spain  reached  France,  and  the  influ- 
ence of  Amadis  reappears  in  the  seventeenth  century  in 
the  romances  of  d'Urfe  and  Mdlle.  de  Scudery. 

If  the  genius  of  the  Renaissance  is  expressed  ardently 
and  amply  in  the  writings  of  Rabelais,  the  genius  of  the 
Reformation  finds  its  highest  and  most  characteristic 
utterance  through  one  whom  Rabelais  describes  as  the 
"demoniacle"  of  Geneva — JEAN  CALVIN  (1509-64).  The 
pale  face  and  attenuated  figure  of  the  great  Reformer, 
whose  life  was  a  long  disease,  yet  whose  indomitable 
will  sustained  him  amid  bodily  infirmities,  present  a 
striking  contrast  to  the  sanguine  health  and  overflow- 
ing animal  spirits  of  the  good  physician  who  reckoned 
laughter  among  the  means  of  grace.  Yet  Calvin  was  not 
merely  a  Reformer  :  he  was  also  a  humanist,  who,  in 
his  own  way,  made  a  profound  study  of  man,  and  who 
applied  the  learning  of  a  master  to  the  determination 
of  dogma.  His  education  was  partly  theological,  partly 
legal ;  and  in  his  body  of  doctrine  appear  some  of  the 


CALVIN  93 

rigour,  the  severity,  and  the  formal  procedures  of  the 
law.  Indignation  against  the  imprisonment  and  burning 
of  Protestants,  under  the  pretence  that  they  were  rebel- 
lious anabaptists,  drew  him  from  obscurity  ;  silence, 
he  thought,  was  treason.  He  addressed  to  the  King 
an  eloquent  letter,  in  which  he  maintained  that  the 
Reformed  faith  was  neither  new  nor  tending  towards 
schism,  and  next  year  (1536)  he  published  his  lucid 
and  logical  exposition  of  Protestant  doctrine  —  the 
Christiana;  Religionis  Institutio.  It  placed  him,  at  the 
age  of  twenty-seven,  as  leader  in  the  forefront  of  the 
new  religious  movement. 

But  the  movement  was  not  merely  learned,  it  was 
popular,  and  Calvin  was  resolved  to  present  his  work  to 
French  readers  in  their  own  tongue.  His  translation — 
the  Institution — appeared  probably  in  1541.  Perhaps  no 
work  by  an  author  of  seven-and-twenty  had  ever  so  great 
an  influence.  It  consists  of  four  books — of  God,  of  Jesus 
as  a  Mediator,  of  the  effects  of  His  mediatorial  work, 
and  of  the  exterior  forms  of  the  Church.  The  generous 
illusion  of  Rabelais,  that  human  nature  is  essentially 
good,  has  no  place  in  Calvin's  system.  Man  is  fallen 
and  condemned  under  the  law ;  all  his  righteousness 
is  as  filthy  rags ;  God,  of  His  mere  good  pleasure,  from 
all  eternity  predestinated  some  men  to  eternal  life  and 
others  to  eternal  death  ;  the  Son  of  God  came  to  earth 
to  redeem  the  elect ;  through  the  operation  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  in  the  gift  of  faith  they  are  united  to  Christ,  are 
justified  through  His  righteousness  imputed  to  them, 
and  are  sanctified  in  their  hearts  ;  the  Church  is  the 
body  of  the  faithful  in  every  land  ;  the  officers  of  the 
Church  are  chosen  by  the  people ;  the  sacraments  are 
two — baptism  and  the  Lord's  Supper.  In  his  spirit  of 


94  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

system,  his  clearness,  and  the  logical  enchainment  of 
his  ideas,  Calvin  is  eminently  French.  On  the  one  side 
he  saw  the  Church  of  Rome,  with — as  he  held — its 
human  tradition,  its  mass  of  human  superstitions,  in- 
tervening between  the  soul  and  God ;  on  the  other 
side  were  the  scepticism,  the  worldliness,  the  religious 
indifference  of  the  Renaissance.  Within  the  Reforming 
party  there  was  the  conflict  of  private  opinions.  Calvin 
desired  to  establish  once  for  all,  on  the  basis  of  the 
Scriptures,  a  coherent  system  of  dogma  which  should 
impose  itself  upon  the  minds  of  men  as  of  divine  autho- 
rity, which  should  be  at  once  a  barrier  against  the 
dangers  of  superstition  and  the  dangers  of  libertine 
speculation.  As  the  leaders  of  the  French  Revolution 
propounded  political  constitutions  founded  on  the  idea 
of  the  rights  of  man,  so  Calvin  aimed  at  setting  forth 
a  creed  proceeding,  if  we  may  so  put  it,  from  a  con- 
ception of  the  absolute  rights  of  God.  Through  the 
mere  good  pleasure  of  our  Creator,  Ruler,  Judge,  we 
are  what  we  are. 

It  is  not  perhaps  too  much  to  say  that  Calvin  is  the 
greatest  writer  of  the  sixteenth  century.  He  learned 
much  from  the  prose  of  Latin  antiquity.  Clearness, 
precision,  ordonnance,  sobriety,  intellectual  energy  are 
compensations  for  his  lack  of  grace,  imagination,  sensi- 
bility, and  religious  unction.  He  wrote  to  convince,  to 
impress  his  ideas  upon  other  minds,  and  his  austere 
purpose  was  attained.  In  the  days  of  the  pagan  Re- 
naissance, it  was  well  for  France  that  there  should  also 
be  a  Renaissance  of  moral  rigour ;  if  freedom  was 
needful,  so  also  was  discipline.  On  the  other  hand,  it 
may  be  admitted  that  Calvin's  reason  is  sometimes  the 
dupe  of  Calvin's  reasoning. 


BF.ZE  95 

His  Life  was  written  in  French  by  his  fellow-worker  in 
the  Reformation,  Theodore  de  Beze,  who  also  recorded 
the  history  of  the  Reformed  Churches  in  France  (1580). 
Beze  and  Viret,  together  with  their  leader  Calvin,  were 
eminent  in  pulpit  exposition  and  exhortation,  and  in 
Beze  the  preacher  was  conjoined  with  a  poet.  At 
Calvin's  request  he  undertook  his  translation  of  the 
Psalms,  to  complete  that  by  Marot,  and  in  1551  his 
sacred  drama  the  Tragedie  Franqaise  du  sacrifice  d' Abra- 
ham, designed  to  inculcate  the  duty  of  entire  surrender 
to  the  divine  will,  and  written  with  a  grave  and 
restrained  ardour,  was  presented  at  the  University  of 
Lausanne. 


CHAPTER  II 
FROM  THE  PLEIADE  TO  MONTAIGNE 

THE  classical  Renaissance  was  not  necessarily  opposed 
to  high  ethical  ideals ;  it  was  not  wholly  an  affair  of  the 
sensuous  imagination  ;  it  brought  with  it  the  conception 
of  Roman  virtue,  and  this  might  well  unite  itself  (as  we 
see  afterwards  in  Corneille)  with  Christian  faith.  Among 
the  many  translators  of  the  sixteenth  century  was  Mon- 
taigne's early  friend — the  friend  in  memory  of  all  his 
life  —  ETIENNE  DE  LA  BOETIE  (1530-63).  It  is  not, 
however,  for  his  fragments  of  Plutarch  or  his  graceful 
rendering  of  Xenophon's  Economics  (named  by  him 
the  Mesnagerie)  that  we  remember  La  Boetie ;  it  is 
rather  for  his  eloquent  pleading  on  behalf  of  freedom 
in  the  Discours  de  la  Servitude  Volontaire  or  Contrun, 
written  at  sixteen  —  revised  later  —  in  which,  with  the 
rhetoric  of  youth,  he  utters  his  invective  against  tyranny. 
Before  La  Boetie's  premature  death  the  morals  of  anti- 
quity as  seen  in  action  had  been  exhibited  to  French 
readers  in  the  pages  of  Amyot's  delightful  translation  of 
Plutarch's  Lives  (1559),  to  be  followed,  some  years  later, 
by  his  (Euvres  Morales  de  Plutarque.  JACQUES  AMYOT 
(1513-93),  from  an  ill-fed,  ragged  boy,  rose  to  be  the 
Bishop  of  Auxerre.  His  scholarship,  seen  not  only  in 
his  Plutarch,  but  in  his  rendering  of  the  Daphnis  et  Chloe 
of  Longus,  and  other  works,  was  exquisite ;  but  still 


AMYOT'S  PLUTARCH  97 

more  admirable  was  his  sense  of  the  capacities  of  French 
prose.  He  divined  with  a  rare  instinct  the  genius  of  the 
language;  he  felt  the  affinities  between  his  Greek  original 
and  the  idioms  of  his  own  countrymen  ;  he  rather  re- 
created than  translated  Plutarch.  "  We  dunces,"  wrote 
Montaigne,  "would  have  been  lost,  had  not  this  book 
raised  us  from  the  mire ;  thanks  to  it,  we  now  venture  to 
speak  and  write  ;  ...  it  is  our  breviary."  The  life  and 
the  ideas  of  the  ancient  world  became  the  possession, 
not  of  scholars  only,  but  of  all  French  readers.  The 
book  was  a  school  of  manners  and  of  thought,  an  in- 
spirer  of  heroic  deeds.  "To  love  Plutarch,"  said  the 
greatest  Frenchman  of  the  century,  Henry  of  Navarre, 
"is  to  love  me,  for  he  was  long  the  master  of  my 
youth." 

It  was  such  an  interest  in  the  life  and  ideas  of  antiquity 
as  Amyot  conveyed  to  the  general  mind  of  France  that 
was  wanting  to  Ronsard  and  the  group  of  poets  sur- 
rounding him.  Their  work  was  concerned  primarily 
with  literary  form  ;  of  the  life  of  the  world  and  general 
ideas,  apart  from  form,  they  took  too  little  heed.  The 
transition  from  Marot  to  Ronsard  is  to  be  traced  chiefly 
through  the  school  of  Lyons.  In  that  city  of  the  South, 
letters  flourished  side  by  side  with  industry  and  com- 
merce ;  Maurice  Sceve  celebrated  his  mistress  Delie, 
"object  of  the  highest  virtue,"  with  Petrarchan  ingenui- 
ties ;  and  his  pupil  LOUISE  LAB£ ,  "  la  belle  Cordiere," 
sang  in  her  sonnets  of  a  true  passion  felt,  as  she  declares, 
"  en  ses  os,  en  son  sang,  en  son  ame."  The  Lyonese 
poets,  though  imbued  with  Platonic  ideas,  rather  carry 
on  the  tradition  of  Marot  than  announce  the  Pleiade. 
PIERRE  DE  RONSARD,  born  at  a  chateau  a  few  leagues 
from  Vendome,  in  the  year  1524,  was  in  the  service  of 


98  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

the  sons  of  Francis  I.  as  page,  was  in  Scotland  with 
James  V.,  and  later  had  the  prospect  of  a  distinguished 
diplomatic  career,  when  deafness,  consequent  on  a 
serious  malady,  closed  for  him  the  avenue  to  public 
life.  He  threw  himself  ardently  into  the  study  of 
letters;  in  company  with  the  boy  Antoine  de  Ba'ff  he 
received  lessons  from  an  excellent  Hellenist,  Jean 
Daurat,  soon  to  be  principal  of  the  College  Coqueret. 
At  the  College  a  group  of  students  —  Ronsard,  Ba'if, 
Joachim  du  Bellay,  Remi  Belleau — gathered  about  the 
master.  The  "  Brigade "  was  formed,  which,  by-and- 
by,  with  the  addition  of  Jodelle  and  Pontus  de  Thyard, 
and  including  Daurat,  became  the  constellation  of  the 
Pleiade.  The  seven  associates  read  together,  translated 
and  imitated  the  classics ;  a  common  doctrine  of  art 
banded  them  in  unity  ;  they  thought  scorn  of  the  vulgar 
ways  of  popular  verse  ;  poetry  for  them  was  an  arduous 
and  exquisite  toil ;  its  service  was  a  religion.  At  length, 
in  1549,  they  flung  out  their  manifesto — the  Defense 
et  Illustration  de  la  Langne  Franqaise  by  Du  Bellay, 
the  most  important  study  in  literary  criticism  of  the 
century.  With  this  should  be  considered,  as  less  im- 
portant manifestoes,  the  later  Art  Podtique  of  Ronsard, 
and  his  prefaces  to  the  Franciade.  To  formulate  prin- 
ciples is  not  always  to  the  advantage  of  a  movement 
in  literature  ;  but  champions  need  a  banner,  reformers 
can  hardly  dispense  with  a  definite  creed.  Against  the 
popular  conception  of  the  ignorant  the  Pleiade  main- 
tained that  poetry  was  a  high  and  difficult  form  of 
art ;  against  the  pedantry  of  humanism  they  main- 
tained that  the  native  tongue  of  France  admitted  of 
literary  art  worthy  to  take  its  place  beside  that  of 
Greece  or  Rome.  The  French 'literary  vocabulary,  they 


DOCTRINE  OF  THE  PLEIADE  99 

declared,  has  excellences  of  its  own,  but  it  needs  to 
be  enriched  by  technical  terms,  by  words  of  local  dia- 
lects, by  prudent  adoptions  from  Greek  and  Latin, 
by  judicious  developments  of  the  existing  families  of 
words,  by  the  recovery  of  words  that  have  fallen  into 
disuse. 

It  is  unjust  to  the  Pleiade  to  say  that  they  aimed  at 
overloading  poetic  diction  with  neologisms  of  classical 
origin ;  they  sought  to  innovate  with  discretion ;  but 
they  unquestionably  aimed  at  the  formation  of  a  poetic 
diction  distinct  from  that  of  prose ;  they  turned  away 
from  simplicity  of  speech  to  ingenious  periphrasis ; 
they  desired  a  select,  aristocratic  idiom  for  the  service 
of  verse  ;  they  recommended  a  special  syntax  in  imita- 
tion of  the  Latin*;  for  the  elder  forms  of  French  poetry 
they  would  substitute  reproductions  or  re-creations  of 
classical  forms.  Rondeaux,  ballades,  virelais,  chants 
royaux,  chansons  are  to  be  cast  aside  as  tpiceries ;  and 
their  place  is  to  be  taken  by  odes  like  those  of  Pindar 
or  of  Horace,  by  the  elegy,  satire,  epigram,  epic,  or  by 
newer  forms  justified  by  the  practice  of  Italian  masters. 
Rich  but  not  over-curious  rhymes  are  to  be  cultivated, 
with  in  general  the  alternation  of  masculine  and  feminine 
rhymes ;  the  caesura  is  to  fall  in  accordance  with  the 
meaning.  Ronsard,  more  liberal  than  Du  Bellay,  per- 
mits, on  the  ground  of  classical  example,  the  gliding 
from  couplet  to  couplet  without  a  pause.  "The  alex- 
andrine holds  in  our  language  the  place  of  heroic 
verse  among  the  Greeks  and  Romans" — in  this  state- 
ment is  indicated  the  chief  service  rendered  to  French 
poetry  by  Ronsard  and  the  rest  of  the  Pleiade ;  they  it 
was  who,  by  their  teaching  and  example,  imposed  on 
later  writers  that  majestic  line,  possessing  the  most 


ioo  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

varied  powers,  capable  of  the  finest  achievements,  which 
has  yielded  itself  alike  to  the  purposes  of  Racine  and 
to  those  of  Victor  Hugo. 

Ronsard  and  Du  Bellay  broke  with  the  tradition  of 
the  Middle  Ages,  and  inaugurated  the  French  classical 
school ;  it  remained  for  Malherbe,  at  a  later  date,  to 
reform  the  reformation  of  the  Plciade,  and  to  win  for 
himself  the  glory  which  properly  belongs  to  his  pre- 
decessors. Unfortunately  from  its  origin  the  French 
classical  school  had  in  it  the  spirit  of  an  intellectual 
aristocracy,  which  removed  it  from  popular  sympathies  ; 
unfortunately,  also,  the  poets  of  the  Pleiade  failed  to 
perceive  that  the  masterpieces  of  Greece  and  Rome  are 
admirable,  not  because  they  belong  to  antiquity,  but 
because  they  are  founded  on  the  imitation  of  nature 
and  on  ideas  of  the  reason.  They  were  regarded  as 
authorities  equal  with  nature  or  independent  of  it ;  and 
thus  while  the  school  of  Ronsard  did  much  to  renew 
literary  art,  its  teaching  involved  an  error  which  even- 
tually tended  to  the  sterilisation  of  art.  That  error 
found  its  correction  in  the  literature  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  and  expressly  in  the  doctrine  set  forth  by 
Boileau ;  yet  under  the  correction  some  of  the  con- 
sequences of  the  error  remained.  Ronsard  and  his 
followers,  on  the  other  hand,  never  made  the  assump- 
tion, common  enough  in  the  seventeenth  century,  that 
poetry  could  be  manufactured  by  observance  of  the 
rules,  nor  did  they  suppose  that  the  total  play  of 
emotion  must  be  rationalised  by  the  understanding ; 
they  left  a  place  for  the  instinctive  movements  of  poetic 
sensibility. 

During  forty  years  Ronsard  remained  the  "  Prince  of 
Poets."  Tasso  sought  his  advice;  the  Chancellor  Michel 


RONSARD  10 i 

de  1'Hospital  wrote  in  his  praise;  Brantome  placed  him 
above  Petrarch  ;  Queen  Elizabeth  and  Mary  Stuart  sent 
him  gifts  ;  Charles  IX.  on  one  occasion  invited  him  to  sit 
beside  the  throne.  In  his  last  hours  he  was  still  occupied 
with  his  art.  His  death,  at  the  close  of  1585,  was  felt  as  a 
national  calamity,  and  pompous  honours  were  awarded 
to  his  tomb.  Yet  Ronsard,  though  ambitious  of  literary 
distinction,  did  not  lose  his  true  self  in  a  noisy  fame. 
His  was  the  delicate  nature  of  an  artist;  his  deafness 
perhaps  added  to  his  timidity  and  his  love  of  retirement; 
we  think  of  him  in  his  garden,  cultivating  his  roses  as 
"  the  priest  of  Flora." 

His  work  as  a  poet  falls  into  four  periods.  From  1550 
to  1554  he  was  a  humanist  without  discretion  or  reserve 
In  the  first  three  books  of  the  Odes  he  attempted  to  rival 
Pindar ;  in  the  Amours  de  Cassandre  he  emulates  the 
glory  of  Petrarch.  From  1554  to  1560,  abandoning 
his  Pindarism,  he  was  in  discipleship  to  Anacreon l  and 
Horace.  It  is  the  period  of  the  less  ambitious  odes 
found  in  the  fourth  and  fifth  books,  the  period  of  the 
Amours  de  Marie  and  the  Hymnes.  From  1560  to  1574 
he  was  a  poet  of  the  court  and  of  courtly  occasions,  an 
eloquent  declaimer  on  public  events  in  the  Discours  des 
Aliseres  de  ce  Temps,  and  the  unfortunate  epic  poet  of  his 
unfinished  Frandade.  During  the  last  ten  years  of  his 
life  he  gave  freer  expression  to  his  personal  feelings, 
his  sadness,  his  gladness  ;  and  to  these  years  belong  the 
admirable  sonnets  to  Helene  de  Surgeres,  his  autumnal 
love. 

Ronsard's  genius  was  lyrical  and  elegiac,  but  the  tenden- 
cies of  a  time  when  the  great  affair  was  the  organisation 

1  i.e.    the  Anacreontic  poems,  found,  and   published   in   I554>    ky  Henri 
Estienne. 


102  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

of  social  life,  and  as  a  consequence  the  limitation  of 
individual  and  personal  passions,  were  not  favourable 
to  the  development  of  lyrical  poetry.  In  his  imitations 
of  Pindar  a  narrative  element  checks  the  flight  of  song, 
and  there  is  a  certain  unreality  in  the  premeditated 
attempt  to  reproduce  the  passionate  fluctuations  and 
supposed  disorder  of  his  model.  The  study  of  Pindar, 
however,  trained  Ronsard  in  the  handling  of  sustained 
periods  of  verse,  and  interested  him  in  complex  lyri- 
cal combinations.  His  Anacreontic  and  HoratLan  odes 
are  far  happier ;  among  these  some  of  his  most  de- 
lightful work  is  found.  If  he  was  deficient  in  great 
ideas,  he  had  delicacy  of  sentiment  and  an  exquisite 
sense  of  metrical  harmony.  The  power  which  he 
possessed  as  a  narrative  poet  appears  best  in  episodes 
or  epic  fragments.  His  ambitious  attempt  to  trace 
the  origin  of  the  French  monarchy  from  the  ima- 
ginary Trojan  Francus  was  unfortunate  in  its  subject, 
and  equally  unfortunate  in  its  form  —  the  rhyming 
decasyllabic  verse. 

In  pieces  which  may  be  called  hortatory,  the  pulpit 
eloquence,  as  it  were,  of  a  poet  addressing  his  contem- 
poraries on  public  matters,  the  utterances  of  a  patriot 
and  a  citizen  moved  by  pity  for  his  fellows,  such  poetry 
as  the  Discours  dcs  Misercs  de  ce  Temps  and  the  Institution 
pour  I' Adolescence  du  Rot,  Charles  IX.,  Ronsard  is  original 
and  impressive,  a  forerunner  of  the  orator  poets  of  the 
seventeenth  century.  His  eclogues  show  a  true  feeling 
for  external  nature,  touched  at  times  by  a  tender  sadness. 
When  he  escapes  from  the  curiosities  and  the  strain  of 
his  less  happy  Petrarchism,  he  is  an  admirable  poet  of 
love  in  song  and  sonnet ;  no  more  beautiful  variation  on 
the  theme  of  "gather  the  rosebuds  while  ye  may"  exists 


BAlF:    BELLE AU  103 

than  his  sonnet  Quand  vous  serez  bien  vieille,  unless  it  be 
his  dainty  ode  Mignonne,  allons  voirsi  la  Rose.  Passionate 
in  the  deepest  and  largest  sense  Ronsard  is  not ;  but  it  was 
much  to  be  sincere  and  tender,  to  observe  just  measure, 
to  render  a  subtle  phase  of  emotion.  In  the  fine  melan- 
choly of  his  elegiac  poetry  he  is  almost  modern.  Before 
all  else  he  is  a  master  of  his  instrument,  an  inventor  of 
new  effects  and  movements  of  the  lyre  ;  in  his  hands  the 
entire  rhythmical  system  was  renewed  or  was  purified. 
His  dexterity  in  various  metres  was  that  of  a  great  vir- 
tuoso, and  it  was  not  the  mere  dexterity  which  conquers 
difficulties,  it  was  a  skill  inspired  and  sustained  by  the 
sentiment  of  metre. 

Of  the  other  members  of  the  Pleiade,  one — Jodelle — 
is  remembered  chiefly  in  connection  with  the  history 
of  the  drama.  Bai'f  (1532-89),  son  of  the  French 
ambassador  at  Venice,  translated  from  Sophocles  and 
Terence,  imitated  Plautus,  Petrarchised  in  sonnets,  took 
from  Virgil's  Georgics  the  inspiration  of  his  Me'tfores, 
was  guided  by  the  Anacreontic  poems  in  his  Passe- 
Temps,  and  would  fain  rival  Theognis  in  his  most 
original  work  Les  Mimes,  where  a  moral  or  satiric 
meaning  masks  behind  an  allegory  or  a  fable.  He 
desired  to  connect  poetry  more  closely  with  music,  and 
with  this  end  in  view  thought  to  reform  the  spelling  of 
words  and  to  revive  the  quantitative  metrical  system 
of  classical  verse.1  REMI  BELLEAU  (1528-77)  practised 
the  Horatian  ode  and  the  sonnet ;  translated  Anacreon  ; 
followed  the  Neapolitan  Sannazaro  in  his  Bergerie  of 
connected  prose  and  verse,  where  the  shepherds  are 
persons  of  distinction  arrayed  in  a  pastoral  disguise ; 

1  The  "  Baffin  verse,"  French  not  classical,  is  of  fifteen  syllables,  divided 
into  hemistichs  of  seven  and  eight  syllables. 
8 


104  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

and  adapted  the  mediaeval  lapidary  (with  imitations  of 
the  pseudo-Orpheus)  to  the  taste  of  the  Renaissance  in 
his  Amours  et  Nouveaux  Jischanges  des  Pier  res  Precieuses, 
These  little  myths  and  metamorphoses  of  gems  are 
ingenious  and  graceful.  The  delicate  feeling  for 
nature  which  Belleau  possessed  is  seen  at  its  best 
in  the  charming  song  Avril,  included  in  his  some- 
what incoherent  Bergerie.  Among  his  papers  was 
found,  after  his  death,  a  comedy,  La  Reconnue,  which, 
if  it  has  little  dramatic  power,  shows  a  certain  instinct 
for  satire. 

These  are  minor  lights  in  the  poetical  constellation  ; 
but  the  star  of  JOACHIM  DU  BELLAY  shines  with  a  ray 
which,  if  less  brilliant  than  that  of  Ronsard,  has  a  finer 
and  more  penetrating  influence.  Du  Bellay  was  born 
about  1525,  at  Lire1,  near  Angers,  of  an  illustrious  family. 
His  youth  was  unhappy,  and  a  plaintive  melancholy 
haunts  his  verse.  Like  Ronsard  he  suffered  from  deaf- 
ness, and  he  has  humorously  sung  its  praises.  Olive, 
fifty  sonnets  in  honour  of  his  Platonic  or  Petrarchan 
mistress,  Mdlle.  de  Viole  (the  letters  of  whose  name 
are  transposed  to  Olive),  appeared  almost  at  the  same 
moment  as  the  earliest  Odes  of  Ronsard;  but  before 
long  he  could  mock  in  sprightly  stanzas  the  fantasies 
and  excesses  of  the  Petrarchan  style.  It  was  not  until 
his  residence  in  Rome  (1551)  as  intendant  of  his  cousin 
Cardinal  du  Bellay,  the  French  ambassador,  that  he 
found  his  real  self.  In  his  Antiquites  de  Rome  he  ex- 
presses the  sentiment  of  ruins,  the  pathos  of  fallen 
greatness,  as  it  had  never  been  expressed  before.  The 
intrigues,  corruption,  and  cynicism  of  Roman  society,  his 
broken  health,  an  unfortunate  passion  for  the  Faustina 
of  his  Latin  verses,  and  the  longing  for  his  beloved 


DU  BELLAY  105 

province  and  little  Lire  depressed  his  spirits ;  in  the 
sonnets  of  his  Regrets  he  embodied  his  intimate  feelings, 
and  that  lively  spirit  of  satire  which  the  baseness  of  the 
Pontifical  court  summoned  into  life.  This  satiric  vein 
had,  indeed,  already  shown  itself  in  his  mocking  counsel 
to  le  Poete  courtisan :  the  courtier  poet  is  to  be  a  gentle- 
man who  writes  at  ease ;  he  is  not  to  trouble  himself 
with  study  of  the  ancients  ;  he  is  to  produce  only  pieces 
of  occasion,  and  these  in  a  negligent  style  ;  the  rarer  and 
the  smaller  they  are  the  better  ;  and  happily  at  last  he 
may  cease  to  bring  forth  even  these.  Possibly  his  poete 
courtisan  was  Melin  de  Saint-Gelais.  As  a  rural  poet 
Du  Bellay  is  charming  ;  his  Jeux  Rustiques,  while  owing 
much  to  the  Lusus  of  the  Venetian  poet  Navagero,  have 
in  them  the  true  breath  of  the  fields  ;  it  is  his  douce 
province  of  Anjou  which  inspires  him ;  the  song  to 
Venus  in  its  happiest  stanzas  is  only  less  admirable 
than  the  Vanneur  de  Bit,  with  which  more  than  any 
other  single  poem  the  memory  of  Du  Bellay  is  associ- 
ated. The  personal  note,  which  is  in  general  absent 
from  the  poetry  of  Ronsard,  is  poignantly  and  ex- 
quisitely audible  in  the  best  pieces  of  Du  Bellay.  He 
did  not  live  long  enough  to  witness  the  complete 
triumph  of  the  master ;  in  1560  he  died  exhausted,  at 
the  age  of  thirty-five. 

The  Pleiade  served  literature  by  their  attention  to 
form,  by  their  skill  in  poetic  instrumentation ;  but  they 
were  incapable  of  interpreting  life  in  any  large  and 
original  way.  In  the  hands  of  their  successors  poetry 
languished  for  want  of  an  inspiring  theme.  PHILIPPE 
DESPORTES  (1546-1606)  was  copious  and  skilful  in  his 
reproduction  and  imitation  of  Italian  models ;  as  a 
courtier  poet  he  reduced  literary  flattery  to  a  fine  art  ; 


106  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

but  his  mannered  graces  are  cold,  his  pretence  of 
passion  is  a  laboured  kind  of  esprit.  A  copy  of  his 
works  annotated  by  the  hand  of  Malherbe  survives ; 
the  comments,  severe  and  just,  remained  unpublished, 
probably  because  the  writer  was  unwilling  to  pursue 
an  adversary  whom  death  had  removed  from  his  way. 
Jean  Bertaut,  his  disciple,  is  a  lesser  Desportes.  Satire 
was  developed  by  Jean  Vauquelin  de  la  Fresnaye,  and 
to  him  we  owe  an  Art  Pottique  (1575)  which  adapts  to 
his  own  time  the  teaching  of  Aristotle  and  Horace. 
More  interesting  than  these  is  JEAN  PASSERAT  (1534- 
1602),  whose  spirit  is  that  of  old  France  in  its  mirth 
and  mockery,  and  whose  more  serious  verse  has  the 
patriotism  of  French  citizenship ;  his  field  was  small, 
but  he  tilled  his  field  gaily  and  courageously.  The 
villanelle  J'ai  perdu  ma  tourterdle  and  the  ode  on  May- 
day show  Passerat's  art  in  its  happiest  moments. 

The  way  for  a  reform  in  dramatic  poetry  had  been  in 
some  degree  prepared  by  plays  of  the  sixteenth  century, 
written  in  Latin — the  work  of  Buchanan,  Muret,  and 
others — by  translations  from  Terence,  Sophocles,  Euri- 
pides, translations  from  Italian  comedy,  and  renderings 
of  one  Spanish  model,  the  highly-popular  Celestina  of 
Fernando  de  Rojas.  The  Latin  plays  were  acted  in 
schools.  The  first  performance  of  a  play  in  French 
belonging  to  the  new  tendency  was  that  of  Ronsard's 
translation  of  the  Plutus  of  Aristophanes,  in  1549,  by 
his  friends  of  the  College  de  Coqueret.  It  was  only  by 
amateurs,  and  before  a  limited  scholarly  group  of  spec- 
tators, that  the  new  classical  tragedies  could  be  presented. 
Gradually  both  tragedy  and  comedy  came  to  be  written 
solely  with  a  view  to  publication  in  print.  The  mediaeval 
drama  still  held  the  stage. 


CLASSICAL  TRAGEDY  107 

JODELLE'S  Cleoptitre  (1552),  performed  with  enthusiasm 
by  amateurs,  was  therefore  a  false  start ;  it  was  essen- 
tially literary,  and  not  theatrical.  Greek  models  were 
crudely  imitated,  with  a  lack  of  almost  everything  that 
gave  life  and  charm  to  the  Greek  drama.  Seneca  was 
more  accessible  than  Sophocles,  and  his  faults  were  easy 
to  imitate — his  moralisings,  his  declamatory  passages,  his 
excess  of  emphasis.  The  so-called  Aristotelian  dramatic 
canons,  formulated  by  Scaliger  in  his  Poetic,  were 
rigorously  applied.  Unity  of  place  is  preserved  in  Cleo- 
pdtre ;  the  time  of  the  action  is  reduced  to  twelve  hours  ; 
there  are  interminable  monologues,  choral  moralities,  a 
ghost  (in  Seneca's  manner),  a  narration  of  the  heroine's 
death  ;  of  action  there  is  none,  the  stage  stands  still. 
If  Jodelle's  Didon  has  some  literary  merit,  it  has  little 
dramatic  vitality.  The  oratorical  energy  of  Grevin's 
Jules  Cesar,  the  studies  of  history  in  La  Mort  de  Daire 
and  La  Mort  d' Alexandre,  by  Jacques  de  La  Taille, 
do  not  compensate  their  deficiency  in  the  qualities  re- 
quired by  the  theatre.  One  tragedy  alone,  'La  Sultane, 
by  Gabriel  Bounin  (1561),  amid  its  violences  and  ex- 
travagances, shows  a  feeling  for  dramatic  action  and 
scenic  effect. 

Could  the  mediaeval  mystery  and  classical  tragedy 
be  reconciled  ?  The  Protestant  Reformer  Beze,  in  his 
Sacrifice  d'A  braham,  attempted  something  of  the  kind ; 
his  sacred  drama  is  a  mystery  by  its  subject,  a  tragedy 
in  the  conduct  of  the  action.  Three  tragedies  on  the 
life  of  David — one  of  them  admirable  in  its  rendering  of 
the  love  of  Michol,  daughter  of  Saul — were  published  in 
1556  by  Loys  Des-Masures  :  the  stage  arrangements  are 
those  of  the  mediaeval  drama,  but  the  unity  of  time  is 
observed,  and  chorus  and  semi- chorus  respond  in  alter- 


io8  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

nate  strains.  No  junction  of  dramatic  systems  essen- 
tially opposed  proved  in  the  end  possible.  When  Jean 
de  La  Taille  wrote  on  a  biblical  subject  in  his  Saul  le 
Furieux,  a  play  remarkable  for  its  impressive  concep- 
tion and  development  of  the  character  of  Saul,  he  com- 
posed it  selon  Fart,  and  in  the  manner  of  "the  old 
tragic  authors."  He  is  uncompromising  in  his  classical 
method  ;  the  mediaeval  drama  seemed  inartificial  to  him 
in  the  large  concessions  granted  by  the  spectators  to 
the  authors  and  actors;  he  would  have  what  passes  on 
the  stage  approximate,  at  least,  to  reality  ;  the  unities 
were  accepted  not  merely  on  the  supposed  authority 
of  Aristotle,  but  because  they  were  an  aid  in  attaining 
verisimilitude. 

The  most  eminent  name  in  the  history  of  French 
tragedy  of  the  sixteenth  century  is  that  of  ROBERT 
GARNIER  (1534-90).  His  discipleship  to  Seneca  was  at 
first  that  of  a  pupil  who  reproduces  with  exaggeration 
his  master's  errors.  Sensible  of  the  want  of  movement 
in  his  scenes,  he  proceeded  in  later  plays  to  accumulate 
action  upon  action  without  reducing  the  action  to  unity. 
At  length,  in  Les  Juives  (1583),  which  exhibits  the  revolt 
of  the  Jewish  King  and  his  punishment  by  Nabucho- 
donosor,  he  attained  something  of  true  pity  and  terror, 
beauty  of  characterisation,  beauty  of  lyrical  utterance  in 
the  plaintive  songs  of  the  chorus.  Gamier  was  assuredly 
a  poet ;  but  even  in  Les  Juives,  the  best  tragedy  of  his 
century,  he  was  not  a  master  of  dramatic  art.  If  any- 
where he  is  in  a  true  sense  dramatic,  it  is  in  his  example 
of  the  new  form  of  tragi-comedy.  Bradamante,  derived 
from  the  Orlando  Furioso  of  Ariosto,  shows  not  only 
poetic  imagination,  but  a  certain  feeling  for  the  require- 
ments of  the  theatre. 


COMEDY  109 

Comedy  in  the  sixteenth  century,  dating  from  Jodelle's 
Eugene,  is  either  a  development  of  the  mediaeval  farce, 
indicated  in  point  of  form  by  the  retention  of  octo- 
syllabic verse,  or  an  importation  from  the  drama  of 
Italy.  Certain  plays  of  Aristophanes,  of  Terence,  of 
Plautus  were  translated  ;  but,  in  truth,  classical  models  . 
had  little  influence.  Grevin,  while  professing  originality, 
really  follows  the  traditions  of  the  farce.  Jean  de  La 
Taille,  in  his  prose  comedy  Les  Corrivaux,  prepared 
the  way  for  the  easy  and  natural  dialogue  of  the  comic 
stage.  The  most  remarkable  group  of  sixteenth-century 
comedies  are  those  translated  in  prose  from  the  Italian, 
with  such  obvious  adaptations  as  might  suit  them  to 
French  readers,  by  PIERRE  DE  LARIVEY  (1540  to  after 
1611).  Of  the  family  of  the  Giunti,  he  had  gallicised 
his  own  name  (Giunti,  i.e.  Arrives) ;  and  the  originality 
of  his  plays  is  of  a  like  kind  with  that  of  his  name  ; 
they  served  at  least  to  establish  an  Italian  tradition 
for  comedy,  which  was  not  without  an  influence  in 
the  seventeenth  century ;  they  served  to  advance  the 
art  of  dialogue.  If  any  comedy  of  the  period  stands 
out  as  superior  to  its  fellows,  it  is  Les  Contents  (1584), 
by  Odet  de  Turnebe,  a  free  imitation  of  Italian  models 
united  with  something  imported  from  the  Spanish 
Cclestina.  Its  intrigue  is  an  Italian  imbroglio ;  but 
there  are  lively  and  natural  scenes,  such  as  can  but 
rarely  be  found  among  the  predecessors  of  Moliere.  In 
general  the  comedy  of  the  sixteenth  century  is  wildly 
confused  in  plot,  conventional  in  its  types  of  character, 
and  too  often  as  grossly  indecent  as  the  elder  farces. 
Before  the  century  closed,  the  pastoral  drama  had  been 
discovered,  and  received  influences  from  both  Italy  and 
Spain;  the  soil  was  being  prepared  for  that  delicate 


no  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

flower  of  poetry,  but  as  yet  its  nurture  was  little  under- 
stood, nor  indeed  can  it  be  said  to  have  ever  taken  kindly 
to  the  climate  of  France. 

While  on  the  one  hand  the  tendencies  of  the 
Pleiade  may  be  described  as  exotic,  going  forth,  as 
they  did,  to  capture  the  gifts  of  classical  and  Italian 
literature,  on  the  other  hand  they  pleaded  strenu- 
ously that  thus  only  could  French  literature  attain  its 
highest  possibilities.  In  the  scholarship  of  the  time, 
side  by  side  with  the  humanism  which  revived  and 
restored  the  culture  of  Greece  and  Rome,  was  an- 
other humanism  which  was  essentially  national.  The 
historical  origins  of  France  were  studied  for  the  first 
time  with  something  of  a  critical  spirit  by  CLAUDE 
FAUCHET  in  his  Antiquitcs  Gauloises  et  Francoises 
(1579  1601).  His  Recueil  de  I '  Origine  de  la  Langue  et 
Poesie  Fran$oise,  in  spite  of  its  errors,  was  an  effort 
towards  French  philology;  and  in  calling  attention  to 
the  trouveres  and  their  works,  Fauchet  may  be  con- 
sidered a  remote  master  of  the  school  of  modern  literary 
research.  ESTIENNE  PASQUIER  (1529-1615),  the  jurist 
who  maintained  in  a  famous  action  the  cause  of  the 
University  against  the  Jesuits,  in  his  Recherches  de  la 
France  treated  with  learning  and  vigour  various  im- 
portant points  in  French  history — civil  and  ecclesiastical 
—language,  literary  history,  and  the  foundation  of  uni- 
versities. HENRI  ESTIENNE  (1531-98),  who  entered  to 
the  full  into  the  intoxication  of  classical  humanism, 
was  patriotic  in  his  reverence  for  his  native  tongue. 
In  a  trilogy  of  little  treatises  (1565-79),  written  with 
much  spirit,  he  maintained  that  of  modern  languages 
the  French  has  the  nearest  affinity  to  the  Greek, 
attempted  to  establish  its  superiority  to  Italian,  and 


JEAN   BODIN  in 

much  more  to  Spanish,  and  mocked  the  contemporary 
fashion  of  Italianised  French. 

The  study  of  history  is  supported  on  the  one  hand  b)! 
such  erudite  research  as  that  of  Fauchet  and  Pasquier; 
on  the  other  hand  it  is  supported  by  political  philosophy 
and  speculation.  To  philosophy,  in  the  wider  sense 
of  the  word,  the  sixteenth  century  made  no  large  and 
coherent  contribution  ;  the  Platonism,  Pyrrhonism, 
Epicureanism,  Stoicism  of  the  Renaissance  met  and 
clashed  together  ;  the  rival  theologies  of  the  Roman  and 
Reformed  Churches  contended  in  a  struggle  for  life. 
PIERRE  DE  LA  RAMEE  (1515-72)  expressed  the  revolt 
of  rationalism  against  the  methods  of  the  schoolmen 
and  the  authority  of  Aristotle;  but  he  ordinarily  wrote 
in  Latin,  and  his  Dialectique,  the  first  philosophical  work 
in  the  vulgar  tongue,  hardly  falls  within  the  province  of 
literary  history. 

The  philosophy  of  politics  is  represented  by  one 
great  name,  that  of  JEAN  BODIN  (1529-96),  whose  R<?- 
publique  may  entitle  him  to  be  styled  the  Montesquieu 
of  the  Renaissance.  In  an  age  which  tended  towards 
the  formation  of  great  monarchies  he  was  vigorously 
monarchical.  The  patriarchal  power  of  the  sovereign 
might  well  be  thought  needful,  in  the  second  half  of 
the  century,  as  a  barrier  against  anarchy ;  but  Bodin 
was  no  advocate  of  tyranny ;  he  condemned  slavery, 
and  held  that  religious  persecution  can  only  lead  to  a 
dissolution  of  religious  belief.  A  citizen  is  defined  by 
Bodin  as  a  free  man  under  the  supreme  government  of 
another;  like  Montesquieu,  he  devotes  attention  to  the 
adaptation  of  government  to  the  varieties  of  race  and 
climate.  The  attempts  at  a  general  history  of  France 
in  the  earlier  part  of  the  sixteenth  century  preserved 


112  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

the  arid  methods  and  unilluminated  style  of  the  medi- 
aeval chronicles ; 1  in  the  second  half  of  the  century 
they  imitated  with  little  skill  the  models  of  antiquity. 
Histories  of  contemporary  events  in  Europe  were 
written  with  conscientious  impartiality  by  Lancelot  de 
la  Popeliniere,  and  with  personal  and  party  passion, 
struggling  against  his  well-meant  resolves,  by  Agrippa 
d'Aubign6.  The  great  Historia  met  Temporis  of  De 
Thou,  faithful  and  austere  in  its  record  of  fact,  was  a 
highly- important  contribution  to  literature,  but  it  is 
written  in  Latin. 

With  a  peculiar  gift  for  narrative,  the  French  have 
been  long  pre-eminent  as  writers  of  memoirs,  and 
already  in  the  sixteenth  century  such  personal  recitals 
are  numerous.  The  wars  of  Frangois  I.  and  of  Henri 
II.  gave  abundant  scope  for  the  display  of  individual 
enterprise  and  energy ;  the  civil  wars  breathed  into  the 
deeds  of  men  an  intensity  of  passion  ;  the  actors  had 
much  to  tell,  and  a  motive  for  telling  it  each  in  his  own 
interest. 

The  Commentaires  of  BLAISE  DE  MONLUC  (1502-77) 
are  said  to  have  been  named  by  Henri  IV.  "the 
soldier's  Bible " ;  the  Bible  is  one  which  does  not 
always  inculcate  mercy  or  peace.  Monluc,  a  Gascon  of 
honourable  birth  and  a  soldier  of  fortune,  had  the 
instinct  of  battle  in  his  blood  ;  from  a  soldier  he  rose 
through  every  rank  to  be  the  King's  lieutenant  of 
Guyenne  and  a  Marshal  of  France  ;  during  fifty  years 
he  fought,  as  a  daring  captain  rather  than  as  a  great 
general,  amorous  of  danger,  and  at  length,  terribly 

1  The  narrative  of  the  life  of  Bayard,  by  his  secretary,  writing  under  the 
name  of  "Le  Loyal  Serviteur"  (1527),  is  admirable  for  its  clearness,  grace, 
and  simplicity. 


MONLUC  113 

disfigured  by  wounds,  he  sat  down,  not  to  rest,  but 
to  wield  his  pen  as  if  it  were  a  sword  of  steel.  His 
Commentaircs  were  meant  to  be  a  manual  for  hardy 
combatants,  and  what  model  could  he  set  before  the 
young  aspirant  so  animating  as  himself  ?  In  his  earlier 
wars  against  the  foreign  foes  of  his  country,  Monluc  was 
indeed  a  model  of  military  prowess;  the  civil  wars  added 
cruelty  to  his  courage ;  after  a  fashion  he  was  religious, 
and  a  short  shrift  and  a  cord  were  good  enough  for 
heretics  and  adversaries  of  his  King.  An  unlettered 
soldier,  Monluc,  by  virtue  of  his  energy  of  character 
and  directness  of  speech,  became  a  most  impressive  and 
spirited  narrator.  His  Memoirs  close  with  a  sigh  for 
stern  and  inviolable  solitude.  Among  the  Pyrenean 
rocks  he  had  formerly  observed  a  lonely  monastery,  in 
view  at  once  of  Spain  and  France ;  there  it  was  his  wish 
to  end  his  days. 

From  the  opposite  party  in  the  great  religious  and 
political  strife  came  the  temperate  Memoirs  of  Lanoue, 
the  simple  and  beautiful  record  of  her  husband's  life  by 
Madame  de  Mornay,  and  that  of  his  own  career,  written 
in  an  old  age  of  gloom  and  passion,by  D'Aubigne".  The 
ideas  of  Henri  IV. — himself  a  royal  author  in  his  Lettres 
missives — are  embodied  in  the  (Economies  Royales  of  the 
statesman  Sully,  whose  secretaries  were  employed  for 
the  occasion  in  laboriously  reciting  his  words  and  deeds 
as  they  had  learnt  them  from  their  chief.  The  superficial 
aspects  of  the  life  of  society,  the  manners  and  morals— 
or  lack  of  morals — of  the  time,  are  lightly  and  brightly 
exhibited  by  PIERRE  DE  BOURDEILLE,  lord  of  BRAN- 
TOME,  Catholic  abbe",  soldier  and  courtier,  observer  of 
the  great  world,  gossip  of  amorous  secrets.  His  Vies  des 
Homines  Illustres  et  des  Grands  Capitaines,  his  Vies  des 


II4  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

Dames  Illustres  et  des  Dames  Galantes,  and  his  Mtmoires 
contained  matter  too  dangerous,  perhaps,  for  publication 
during  his  lifetime,  but  the  author  cherished  the  thought 
of  his  posthumous  renown.  Brantome,  wholly  indifferent 
to  good  and  evil,  had  a  vivid  interest  in  life ;  virtue  and 
vice  concerned  him  alike  and  equally,  if  only  they 
had  vivacity,  movement,  colour;  and  although,  as  with 
Monluc,  it  was  a  physical  calamity  that  made  him  turn 
to  authorship,  he  wrote  with  a  nai've  art,  an  easy  grace, 
and  abundant  spirit.  To  correct  and  complete  Bran- 
tome's  narrative  as  it  related  to  herself,  Marguerite, 
Queen  of  Navarre,  first  wife  of  Henri  IV.,  prepared  her 
unfinished  Memoirs,  which  opens  the  delightful  series 
of  autobiographies  and  reminiscences  of  women.  Her 
account  of  the  night  of  St.  Bartholomew  is  justly 
celebrated ;  the  whole  record,  indeed,  is  full  of  interest; 
but  there  were  passages  of  her  life  which  it  was  natural 
that  she  should  pass  over  in  silence ;  her  sins  of 
omission,  as  Bayle  has  observed,  are  many.1 

The  controversies  of  the  civil  wars  produced  a  militant 
literature,  in  which  the  extreme  parties  contended  with 
passion,  while  between  these  a  middle  party,  the  aspirants 
to  conciliation,  pleaded  for  the  ways  of  prudence,  and, 
if  possible,  of  peace.  FRANCOIS  HOTMAN,  the  effect  of 
whose  Latin  Franco-Gallia,  a  political  treatise  presenting 
the  Huguenot  demands,  has  been  compared  to  that  of 
Rousseau's  Contrat  Social,  launched  his  eloquent  invective 
against  the  Cardinal  de  Lorraine,  in  the  Epistre  envoy  fo  au 
Tigre  de  la  France.  Hubert  Languet,  the  devoted  friend 

1  The  Memoires-Journeaux  of  Pierre  de  1'Estoile  are  a  great  magazine  of 
the  gains  of  the  writer's  disinterested  curiosity.  The  Lettres  of  D'Ossat  and 
the  Negotiations  of  the  President  Jeannin  are  of  importance  in  the  records 
of  diplomacy. 


MILITANT  LITERATURE  115 

of  Philip  Sidney,  in  his  Vindicia  contra  Tyrannos, 
justified  rebellion  against  princes  who  violate  by  their 
commands  the  laws  of  God.  D'Aubigne,  in  his  Con- 
fession de  Sancy,  attacked  with  characteristic  ardour  the 
apostates  and  waverers  of  the  time,  above  the  rest  that 
threefold  recanter  of  his  faith,  Harlay  de  Sancy.  Marnix 
de  Sainte-Aldegonde,  in  his  Tableau  des  Differands  de  la 
Religion,  mingles  theological  erudition  with  his  raillery 
against  the  Roman  communion.  Henri  Estienne  applied 
the  spirit  and  learning  of  a  great  humanist  to  religious 
controversy  in  the  second  part  of  his  Apologie  pour 
Herodote  ;  the  marvellous  tales  of  the  Greek  historian 
may  well  be  true,  he  sarcastically  maintains,  when  in 
this  sixteenth  century  the  abuses  of  the  Roman  Church 
seem  to  pass  all  belief.  On  the  other  hand,  Du  Perron, 
a  cardinal  in  1604,  replied  to  the  arguments  and  cita- 
tions of  the  heretics.  As  the  century  drew  towards  its 
close,  violence  declined ;  the  struggle  was  in  a  measure 
appeased.  In  earlier  days  the  Chancellor,  Michel  de 
1' Hospital,  had  hoped  to  establish  harmony  between 
the  rival  parties ;  grief  for  the  massacre  of  St.  Bar- 
tholomew hastened  his  death.  The  learned  Duplessis- 
Mornay,  leader  and  guide  of  the  Reformed  Churches 
of  France,  a  devoted  servant  of  Henri  of  Navarre,  while 
fervent  in  his  own  beliefs,  was  too  deeply  attached  to 
the  common  faith  of  Christianity  to  be  an  extreme 
partisan.  The  reconciliation  of  Henri  IV.  with  the 
Church  of  Rome,  which  delivered  France  from  anarchy, 
was,  however,  a  grief  to  some  of  his  most  loyal  sup- 
porters, and  of  these  Duplessis-Mornay  was  the  most 
eminent. 

The  cause  of  Henri  against  the  League  was  served  by 
the  manuscript  circulation  of  a  prose  satire,  with  inter- 


n6  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

spersed  pieces  of  verse,  the  work  of  a  group  of  writers, 
moderate  Catholics  or  converted  Protestants,  who  loved 
their  country  and  their  King,  the  Satire  Menipttel-  When 
it  appeared  in  print  (1594;  dated  on  the  title-page  1593) 
the  cause  was  won  ;  the  satire  rose  upon  a  wave  of  suc- 
cess, like  a  gleaming  crest  of  bitter  spray.  It  is  a  parody 
of  the  Estates  of  the  League  which  had  been  ineffectually 
convoked  to  make  choice  of  a  king.  Two  Rabelaisian 
charlatans,  one  from  Spain,  one  from  Lorraine,  offer  their 
drugs  for  sale  in  the  court  of  the  Louvre ;  the  virtues 
of  the  Spanish  Catholicon,  a  divine  electuary,  are  mani- 
fold— it  will  change  the  blackest  criminal  into  a  spotless 
lamb,  it  will  transform  a  vulgar  bonnet  to  a  cardinal's 
hat,  and  at  need  can  accomplish  a  score  of  other  miracles. 
Presently  the  buffoon  Estates  file  past  to  their  assembly ; 
the  hall  in  which  they  meet  is  tapestried  with  grotesque 
scenes  from  history ;  the  order  of  the  sitting  is  deter- 
mined, and  the  harangues  begin,  harangues  in  which 
each  speaker  exposes  his  own  ambitions,  greeds,  hypcv- 
crisies,  and  egoism,  until  Monsieur  d'Aubray,  the  orator 
of  the  tiers  Mat,  closes  the  debate  with  a  speech  in 
turn  indignant,  ironical,  or  gravs  in  its  commisera- 
tion for  the  popular  wrongs — an  ut'.erance  of  bourgeois 
honesty  and  good  sense.  The  writers — Canon  Pierre 
Leroy  ;  Gillot,  clerk-advocate  of  the  Parliament  of  Paris  ; 
Rapin,  a  lettered  combatant  at  Ivry ;  Jean  Passerat,  poet 
and  commentator  on  Rabelais ;  Chrestien  and  Pithou, 
two  Protestants  discreetly  converted  by  force  of  events 
— met  in  a  room  of  Gillot's  house,  where,  according  to 
the  legend,  Boileau  was  afterwards  born,  and  there  con- 
cocted the  venom  of  their  pamphlet.  Its  wit,  in  spite  of 

1  Varro,  who  to  a  certain  extent  copied  from  Menippus  the  Gadarene,  had 
called  his  satires  Saturtz  Menippea  ;  hence  the  title. 


DU  BARTAS  117 

some  extravagances  and  the  tedium  of  certain  pages,  is 
admirable ;  farce  and  comedy,  sarcasm  and  moral  pru- 
dence alternate  ;  and  it  had  the  great  good  fortune  of  a 
satire,  that  of  coming  at  the  lucky  moment. 

The  French  Huguenots  were  not  without  their  poets. 
Two  of  these — Guillaume  Saluste,  Seigneur  du  Bartas, 
and  Agrippa  d'Aubigne — are  eminent.  The  fame  of  Du 
BARTAS  (1544-90)  was  indeed  European.  Ronsard  sent 
him  a  pen  of  gold,  and  feared  at  a  later  time  the  rivalry 
of  his  renown  ;  Tasso  drew  inspiration  from  his  verse  ; 
the  youthful  Milton  read  him  with  admiration  in  the 
rendering  by  Sylvester  ;  long  afterwards  Goethe  hon- 
oured him  with  praise  beyond  his  deserts.  To  read  his 
poems  now,  notwithstanding  passages  of  vivid  descrip- 
tion and  passages  of  ardent  devotional  feeling,  would 
need  rare  literary  fortitude.  His  originality  lies  in  the 
fact  that  while  he  was  a  disciple  of  the  Pleiade,  a  disciple 
crude,  intemperate,  and  provincial,  he  deserted  Greece 
and  Rome,  and  drew  his  subjects  from  Hebraic  sources. 
His  Judith  (1573),  composed  by  the  command  of  Jeanne 
d'Albret,  has  more  of  Lucan  than  of  Virgil  in  its  over-em- 
phatic style.  La  Sepmaine,ou  la  Creation  en  Sept  Journ&s, 
appeared  in  1578,  and  within  a  few  years  had  passed 
through  thirty  editions.  Du  Bartas  is  always  copious, 
sometimes  brilliant,  sometimes  majestic ;  but  laboured 
and  rhetorical  description,  never  ending  and  still  be- 
ginning, fatigues  the  mind ;  an  encyclopaedia  of  the 
works  of  creation  weighs  heavily  upon  the  imagination  ; 
we  sigh  for  the  arrival  of  the  day  of  rest. 

TH£ODORE-AGRIPPA  D'AUBIGN£  (1550-1630)  was  not 
among  the  admirers  of  Du  Bartas.  His  natural  temper  was 
framed  for  pleasure ;  at  another  time  he  might  have  been 
known  only  as  a  poet  of  the  court,  of  lighter  satire,  and  of 


n8  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

love  ;  the  passions  of  the  age  transformed  him  into  an 
ardent  and  uncompromising  combatant.  His  classical 
culture  was  wide  and  exact ;  at  ten  years  old  he  translated 
the  Crito ;  Latin,  Greek,  Hebrew,  Italian,  Spanish  were 
at  his  command.  He  might,  had  France  been  at  peace 
with  herself,  have  appeared  in  literature  as  a  somewhat 
belated  Ronsardist ;  but  his  hereditary  cause  became  his 
own.  While  still  a  child  he  accepted  from  his  father,  in 
presence  of  the  withering  heads  of  the  conspirators  of 
Amboise,  the  oath  of  immitigable  vengeance.  Pursuits, 
escapes,  the  camp,  the  battle-field,  the  prison,  the  court 
made  up  no  small  part  of  his  life  of  vicissitude  and  of 
unalterable  resolve.  He  roused  Henri  of  Navarre  from 
the  lethargy  of  pleasure ;  he  warned  the  King  against 
the  crime  of  apostasy ;  he  dreadled  the  mass,  but  could 
cheerfully  have  accepted  the  stake.  Extreme  in  his  rage 
of  party,  he  yet  in  private  affairs  could  show  good  sense 
and  generosity.  His  elder  years  were  darkened  by  what 
he  regarded  as  treason  in  his  King,  and  by  the  falling 
away  from  the  faith  of  •  that  son  who,  by  an  irony  of 
fate,  became  the  father  of  Madame  de  Maintenon.  Four 
times  condemned  to  death,  he  died  in  exile  at  the  age  of 
eighty. 

D'Aubigne's  satirical  tale,  Les  Aventures  du  Baron  de 
F&neste,  contrasts  the  man  who  appears — spreading  his 
plumes  in  the  sunshine  of  the  court — with  the  man  who 
is,  the  man  who  lives  upon  his  estate,  among  his  rustic 
neighbours,  tilling  his  fields  and  serving  his  people  and  his 
native  land.  As  an  elegiac  poet  D'Aubign6  is  little  more 
than  a  degenerate  issue  from  the  Pleiade.  It  is  in  his 
vehement  poem  of  mourning  and  indignation  and  woe, 
Les  Tragiques,  begun  in  1577  but  not  published  till  1616, 
that  his  power  is  fully  manifested.  To  D'Aubigne,  as 


AGRIPPA  D'AUBIGNE  119 

its  author,  the  characterisation  of  Sainte-Beuve  exactly 
applies  :  "  Juvenal  du  xvi.  siecle,  apre,  austere,  inexor- 
able, herisse  d'hyperboles,  e"tincelant  de  beautes,  rache- 
tant  une  rudesse  grossiere  par  une  sublime  e"nergie." 
In  seven  books  it  tells  of  the  misery  of  France,  the 
treachery  of  princes,  the  abuse  of  public  law  and  justice, 
the  fires  and  chains  of  religious  persecution,  the  venge- 
ance of  God  against  the  enemies  of  the  saints,  and 
the  final  judgment  of  sinners,  when  air  and  fire  and 
water  become  the  accusers  of  those  who  have  per- 
verted the  powers  of  nature  to  purposes  of  cruelty. 
The  poem  is  ill  composed,  its  rhetoric  is  often  strained 
or  hard  and  metallic,  its  unrelieved  horrors  oppress 
the  heart ;  but  the  cry  of  true  passion  is  heard  in 
its  finer  pages ;  from  amid  the  turmoil  and  smoke, 
living  tongues  of  flame  seem  to  dart  forth  which 
illuminate  the  gloom.  The  influence  of  Les  Tragiques 
may  still  be  felt  in  passages  of  Victor  Hugo's  fulgurant 
eloquence. 

In  the  midst  of  strife,  however,  there  were  men  who 
pursued  the  disinterested  service  of  humanity  and  whose 
work  made  for  peace.  The  great  surgeon  Ambroise  Pare", 
full  of  tolerance  and  deeply  pious,  advanced  his  healing 
art  on  the  battle-field  or  amid  the  ravages  of  pestilence, 
and  left  a  large  contribution  to  the  literature  of  science 
Bernard  Palissy,  a  devout  Huguenot,  was  not  only  the 
inventor  of  "rustic  figulines,"  the  designer  of  enamelled 
cups  and  platters,  but  a  true  student  of  nature,  who  would 
substitute  the  faithful  observation  of  phenomena  for 
vain  and  ambitious  theory.  Olivier  de  Serres,  another 
disciple  of  Calvin,  cultivated  his  fields,  helped  to  enrich 
France  by  supporting  Henri  IV.  in  the  introduction  of 
the  industry  in  silk,  and  amassed  his  knowledge  and 


120  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

experience  in  his  admirably-written  Theatre  d' Agricul- 
ture. At  a  later  date  Antoine  de  Montchrestien,  adven- 
turous and  turbulent  in  his  Protestant  zeal,  the  writer  of 
tragedies  which  connect  the  sixteenth  century  \vith  the 
classical  school  of  later  years,  became  the  advocate  of 
a  protectionist  and  a  colonial  policy  in  his  Traicte1  de 
rCEconomie  Politique;  the  style  of  his  essay  towards  eco- 
nomic reform  has  some  of  the  passion  and  enthusiasm  of 
a  poet. 

A  refuge  from  the  troubles  and  vicissitudes  of  the  time 
was  sought  by  some  in  a  Christianised  Stoicism.  Guil- 
laume  du  Vair  (1556-1621),  eminent  as  a  magistrate,  did 
not  desert  his  post  of  duty;  he  pleaded  eloquently,  as 
chief  orator  of  the  middle  party  of  conciliation,  on  behalf 
of  unity  under  Henri  of  Navarre.  In  his  treatise  on 
French  eloquence  he  endeavoured  to  elevate  the  art  of 
public  speaking  above  laboured  pedantry  to  true  human 
discourse.  But  while  taking  part  in  the  contentious  pro- 
gress of  events,  he  saw  the  flow  of  human  affairs  as  from 
an  elevated  plateau.  In  the  conversations  with  friends 
which  form  his  treatise  De  la  Constance  et  Consolation 
es  Calamit^s  Publiques,  Du  Vair's  counsels  are  those  of 
courage  and  resignation,  not  unmingled  with  hope.  He 
rendered  into  French  the  stoical  morals  of  Epictetus; 
and  in  his  own  Sainte  Philosophie  and  Philosophie  Morale 
des  Sto'iques  he  endeavoured,  with  honest  purpose,  rather 
than  \vith  genius,  to  ally  speculation  to  religion,  and  to 
show  how  human  reason  can  lead  the  way  to  those  ethical 
truths  which  are  the  guiding  lights  of  conduct. 

Perhaps  certitude  sufficient  for  human  life  may  be 
found  by  limitation  ;  a  few  established  truths  will,  after 
all,  carry  us  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave  ;  and  beyond 
the  bounds  of  certitude  lies  a  limitless  and  fascinating 


MONTAIGNE  1 2 1 

field  for  observation  and  dubious  conjecture.  Amid  the 
multitude  of  new  ideas  which  the  revival  of  antiquity 
brought  with  it,  amid  the  hot  disputes  of  the  rival 
churches,  amid  the  fierce  contentions  of  civil  war,  how 
delightful  to  possess  one's  soul  in  quiet,  to  be  satisfied 
with  the  needful  knowledge,  small  though  it  be,  which  is 
vouchsafed  to  us,  and  to  amuse  the  mind  with  every 
opinion  and  every  varying  humour  of  that  curious  and 
wayward  creature  man  !  And  who  so  wayward,  who  so 
wavering  as  one's  self  in  all  those  parts  of  our  composite 
being  which  are  subject  to  the  play  of  time  and  circum- 
stance ?  Such,  in  an  age  of  confusion  working  towards 
clearness,  an  age  of  belligerency  tending  towards  con- 
cord, were  the  reflections  of  a  moralist,  the  most  original 
of  his  century — Michel  de  Montaigne. 

MICHEL  EYQUEM,  SEIGNEUR  DE  MONTAIGNE,  was 
born  at  a  chateau  in  Perigord,  in  the  year  1533.  His 
father,  whom  Montaigne  always  remembered  with  affec- 
tionate reverence,  was  a  man  of  original  ideas.  He 
entrusted  the  infant  to  the  care  of  peasants,  wishing  to 
attach  him  to  the  people  ;  educated  him  in  Latin  as  if 
his  native  tongue  ;  roused  him  at  morning  from  sleep 
to  the  sound  of  music.  From  his  sixth  to  his  thirteenth 
year  Montaigne  was  at  the  College  de  Guyenne,  where 
he  took  the  leading  parts  in  Latin  tragedies  composed  by 
Muret  and  Buchanan.  In  1554  he  succeeded  his  father 
as  councillor  in  the  court  des  aides  of  Perigueux,  the 
members  of  which  were  soon  afterwards  incorporated 
in  the  Parliament  of  Bordeaux.  But  nature  had  not 
destined  Montaigne  for  the  duties  of  the  magistracy ; 
he  saw  too  many  sides  of  every  question  ;  he  chose 
rather  to  fail  in  justice  than  in  humanity.  In  1565  he 
acquired  a  large  fortune  by  marriage,  and  having  lost 


122  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

his  father,  he  retired  from  public  functions  in  1570,  to 
enjoy  a  tranquil  existence  of  meditation,  and  of  rambling 
through  books.  He  had  published,  a  year  before,  in 
fulfilment  of  his  father's  desire,  a  translation  of  the 
Theologia  Naturalis  of  Raimond  de  Sebonde,  a  Spanish 
philosopher  of  the  fifteenth  century ;  and  now  he  occu- 
pied himself  in  preparing  for  the  press  the  writings  of 
his  dead  friend  La  Boe"tie.  Love  for  his  father  and 
love  for  his  friend  were  the  two  passions  of  Montaigne's 
life.  From  1571  to  1580  he  dwelt  in  retreat,  in  company 
with  his  books  and  his  ideas,  indulging  his  humour  for 
tranquil  freedom  of  the  mind.  It  was  his  custom  to 
enrich  tfte  margins  of  his  books  with  notes,  and  his 
earliest  essays  may  be  regarded  as  an  extension  of 
such  notes ;  Plutarch  and  Seneca  were,  above  all,  his 
favourites  ;  afterwards,  the  volume  which  he  read  with 
most  enjoyment,  and  annotated  most  curiously,  was  that 
of  his  own  life. 

And,  indeed,  Montaigne's  daily  life,  with  outward 
monotony  and  internal  variety,  was  a  pleasant  miscel- 
lany on  which  to  comment.  He  was  of  a  middle  tem- 
perament, "between  the  jovial  and  the  melancholic"; 
a  lover  of  solitude,  yet  the  reverse  of  morose  ;  choosing 
bright  companions  rather  than  sad  ;  able  to  be  silent, 
as  the  mood  took  him,  or  to  gossip  ;  loyal  and  frank ; 
a  hater  of  hypocrisy  and  falsehood  ;  a  despiser  of  empty 
ceremony  ;  disposed  to  interpret  all  things  to  the  best ; 
cheerful  among  his  children ;  careless  of  exercising 
authority ;  incapable  of  household  management  ;  trust- 
ful and  kind  towards  his  neighbours  ;  indulgent  in  his 
judgments,  yet  warm  in  his  admiration  of  old,  heroic 
virtue.  His  health,  which  in  boyhood  had  been  robust, 
was  shaken  in  middle  life  by  an  internal  malady.  He 


THE  ESSAIS  123 

travelled  in  the  hope  of  finding  strength,  visiting  Ger- 
many, Switzerland,  Italy,  Tyrol,  and  observing,  with  a 
serious  amusement,  the  varieties  of  men  and  manners. 
While  still  absent  from  France,  in  1581,  he  learned  that 
he  had  been  elected  mayor  of  Bordeaux ;  he  hesitated 
in  accepting  an  honourable  but  irksome  public  office ; 
the  King  permitted  no  dallying,  and  Montaigne  obeyed. 
Two  years  later  the  mayor  was  re-elected  ;  it  was  a  period 
of  difficulty ;  a  Catholic  and  a  Royalist,  he  had  a  heretic 
brother,  and  himself  yielded  to  the  charm  of  Henri  of 
Navarre  ;  "  for  the  Ghibelline  I  was  a  Guelph,  for  the 
Guelph  a  Ghibelline."  When,  in  1585,  pestilence  raged 
in  Bordeaux,  Montaigne's  second  period  of  office  had 
almost  expired  ;  he  quitted  the  city,  and  the  election  of 
his  successor  took  place  in  his  absence.  His  last  years 
were  brightened  by  the  friendship  —  almost  filial  —  of 
Mdlle.  de  Gournay,  an  ardent  admirer,  and  afterwards 
editor,  of  the  Essais.  In  1592  Montaigne  died,  when 
midway  in  his  sixtieth  year. 

The  first  two  books  of  the  Essais  were  published  by 
their  author  in  1580 ;  in  1588  they  appeared  in  an 
augmented  text,  with  the  addition  of  the  third  book. 
The  text  superintended  by  Mdlle.  de  Gournay,  based 
upon  a  revised  and  enlarged  copy  left  by  Montaigne,  is 
of  the  year  1595. 

The  unity  of  the  book,  which  makes  no  pretence  to 
unity,  may  be  found  in  the  fact  that  all  its  topics 
are  concerned  with  a-  common  subject — the  nature  of 
man  ;  that  the  writer  accepts  himself  as  the  example  of 
humanity  most  open  to  his  observation  ;  and  that  the 
same  tranquil,  yet  insatiable  curiosity  is  everywhere  pre- 
sent. Man,  as  conceived  by  Montaigne,  is  of  all  creatures 
the  most  variable,  unstable,  inconstant.  The  species 


124  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

includes  the  saint  and  the  brute,  the  hero  and  the  craven, 
while  between  the  extremes  lies  the  average  man,  who 
may  be  anything  that  nature,  custom,  or  circumstances 
make  him.  And  as  the  species  varies  indefinitely,  so 
each  individual  varies  endlessly  from  himself  :  his  con- 
science controls  his  temperament  ;  his  temperament 
betrays  his  conscience  ;  external  events  transform  him 
from  what  he  was.  Do  we  seek  to  establish  our  moral 
being  upon  the  rock  of  philosophical  dogma  ?  The  rock 
gives  way  under  our  feet,  and  scatters  as  if  sand.  Such 
truth  as  we  can  attain  by  reason  is  relative  truth  ;  let 
us  pass  through  knowledge  to  a  wise  acceptance  of  our 
ignorance  ;  let  us  be  contented  with  the  probabilities 
which  are  all  that  our  reason  can  attain.  The  truths 
of  conduct,  as  far  as  they  are  ascertainable,  were  known 
long  since  to  the  ancient  moralists.  Can  any  virtue 
surpass  the  old  Roman  virtue  ?  We  believe  in  God, 
although  we  know  little  about  His  nature  or  His  opera- 
tions ;  and  why  should  we  disbelieve  in  Christianity, 
which  happens  to  be  part  of  the  system  of  things  under 
which  we  are  born  ?  But  why,  also,  should  we  pay  such 
a  compliment  to  opinions  different  from  our  own  as  to 
burn  a  heretic  because  he  prefers  the  Pope  of  Geneva 
to  the  Pope  of  Rome  ?  Let  each  of  us  ask  himself, 
"Que  sais-je?" — "What  do  I  really  know?"  and  the 
answer  will  serve  to  temper  our  zeal. 

While  Montaigne  thus  saps  our  confidence  in  the 
conclusions  of  the  intellect,  when  they  pass  beyond  a 
narrow  bound,  he  pays  a  homage  to  the  force  of  will ; 
his  admiration  for  the  heroic  men  of  Plutarch  is  ardent. 
An  Epicurean  by  temperament,  he  is  a  Stoic  through 
his  imagination  ;  but  for  us  and  for  himself,  who  are 
no  heroes,  the  appropriate  form  of  Stoical  virtue  is 


TEACHING  OF  MONTAIGNE  125 

moderation  within  our  sphere,  and  a  wise  indifference, 
or  at  most  a  disinterested  curiosity,  in  matters  which 
lie  beyond  that  sphere.  Let  us  resign  ourselves  to  life, 
such  as  it  is ;  let  us  resign  ourselves  to  death  ;  and  let 
the  resignation  be  cheerful  or  even  gay.  To  spend 
ourselves  in  attempted  reforms  of  the  world,  of  society, 
of  governments,  is  vain.  The  world  will  go  its  own 
way  ;  it  is  for  us  to  accept  things  as  they  are,  to  observe 
the  laws  of  our  country  because  it  is  ours,  to  smile 
at  them  if  we  please,  and  to  extract  our  private  gains 
from  a  view  of  the  reformers,  the  enthusiasts,  the  dog- 
matists, the  credulous,  the  combatants ;  there  is  one 
heroism  possible  for  us — the  heroism  of  good  sense. 
"  It  is  an  absolute  perfection,  and  as  it  were  divine," 
so  we  read  on  the  last  page  of  Florio's  translation  of 
the  Essais,  "  for  a  man  to  know  how  to  enjoy  his  being 
loyally.  We  seek  for  other  conditions  because  we 
understand  not  the  use  of  ours  ;  and  go  out  of  ourselves, 
forasmuch  as  we  know  not  what  abiding  there  is.  We 
may  long  enough  get  upon  stilts,  for  be  we  upon  them, 
yet  must  we  go  with  our  legs.  And  sit  we  upon  the 
highest  throne  of  the  world,  yet  sit  we  upon  our  own 
tail.  The  best  and  most  commendable  lives,  and  best 
pleasing  me  are  (in  my  conceit),  those  which  with  order 
are  fitted,  and  with  decorum  are  ranged,  to  the  common 
mould  and  human  model ;  but  without  wonder  or  ex- 
travagancy. Now  hath  old  age  need  to  be  handled  more 
tenderly.  Let  us  recommend  it  unto  that  God  who  is 
the  protector  of  health  and  fountain  of  all  wisdom ; 
but  blithe  and  social."  And  with  a  stanza  of  Epicurean 
optimism  from  Horace  the  Essay  closes. 

Such,  or  somewhat  after  this  fashion,  is  the  doctrine  of 
Montaigne.    It  is  conveyed  to  the  reader  without  system, 


126  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

in  the  most  informal  manner,  in  a  series  of  discourses 
which  seem  to  wander  at  their  own  will,  resembling  a 
bright  and  easy  conversation,  vivid  with  imagery,  en- 
livened by  anecdote  and  citation,  reminiscences  from 
history,  observations  of  curious  manners  and  customs, 
offering  constantly  to  view  the  person  of  Montaigne 
himself  in  the  easiest  undress.  The  style,  although 
really  carefully  studied  and  superintended,  has  an  air  of 
light  facility,  hardly  interposing  between  the  author  and 
his  reader ;  the  book  is  of  all  books  the  most  sociable, 
a  living  companion  rather  than  a  book,  playful  and 
humorous,  amiable  and  well  bred,  learned  without  pedan- 
try, and  wise  without  severity. 

During  the  last  three  years  of  his  life  Montaigne 
enjoyed  the  friendship  of  a  disciple  who  was  already 
celebrated  for  his  eloquence  as  a  preacher.  PIERRE 
CHARRON  (1541-1603),  legist  and  theologian,  under  the 
influence  of  Montaigne's  ideas,  aspired  to  be  a  philo- 
sopher. It  was  as  a  theologian  that  he  wrote  his  book 
of  the  Trots  Verites,  which  attempts  to  demonstrate  the 
existence  of  God,  the  truth  of  Christianity,  and  the 
exclusive  orthodoxy  of  the  Roman  communion.  It  was 
as  a  philosopher,  in  the  Traiti  de  la  Sagesse,  that  he 
systematised  the  informal  scepticism  of  Montaigne.  In- 
stead of  putting  the  question,  "Que  sais-je  ?"  Charron 
ventures  the  assertion,  "Je  ne  sais."  He  exhibits  man's 
weakness,  misery,  and  bondage  to  the  passions ;  gives 
counsel  for  the  enfranchisement  of  the  mind ;  and 
studies  the  virtues  of  justice,  prudence,  temperance, 
and  valiance.  God  has  created  man,  says  Charron,  to 
know  the  truth;  never  can  he  know  it  of  himself  or 
by  human  means,  and  one  who  despairs  of  reason  is 
in  the  best  position  for  accepting  divine  instruction ; 


CHARRON  127 

a  Pyrrhonist  at  least  will  never  be  a  heretic ;  even  if 
religion  be  regarded  as  an  invention  of  man,  it  is  an 
invention  which  has  its  uses.  Not  a  few  passages  of 
the  Sagesse  are  directly  borrowed,  with  slight  rehand- 
ling,  from  Montaigne  and  from  Du  Vair  ;  but,  instead  of 
Montaigne's  smiling  agnosticism,  we  have  a  grave  and 
formal  indictment  of  humanity ;  we  miss  the  genial 
humour  and  kindly  temper  of  the  master ;  we  miss  the 
amiable  egotism  and  the  play  of  a  versatile  spirit ;  we 
miss  the  charm  of  an  incomparable  literary  style. 


BOOK   THE   THIRD 

THE    SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY 


BOOK    THE    THIRD 
TPIE    SEVENTEENTH    CENTURY 

CHAPTER    I 

LITERARY  FREEDOM  AND  LITERARY  ORDER 

WITH  the  restoration  of  order  under  Henri  IV.  the 
delights  of  peace  began  to  be  felt ;  a  mundane  society, 
polished  and  pleasure-loving,  began  to  be  constituted, 
and  before  many  years  had  passed  the  influence  of 
women  and  of  the  salon  appeared  in  literature.  Should 
such  a  society  be  permitted  to  remain  oblivious  to 
spiritual  truth,  or  to  repose  on  the  pillow  of  scepticism 
provided  by  Charron  and  Montaigne  ?  Might  it  not  be 
captured  for  religion,  if  religion  were  presented  in  its 
most  gracious  aspect,  as  a  source  of  peace  and  joy,  a 
gentle  discipline  of  the  heart  ?  If  one  who  wore  the 
Christian  armour  should  throw  over  his  steel  some  robe 
of  courtly  silk,  with  floral  adornments,  might  he  not 
prove  a  persuasive  champion  of  the  Cross  ?  Such  was 
the  hope  of  FRANCOIS  DE  SALES  (1567-1622),  Bishop 
of  Geneva,  when,  in  1608,  he  published  his  Introduction 
d  la  Vie  Devote.  The  angelic  doctor  charmed  by  his 

mere  presence,  his  grace  of  person,  his  winning  smile, 

131 


132  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

his  dove's  eyes  ;  he  showed  how  amiable  piety  might 
be ;  his  eloquence  was  festooned  with  blossoms ;  he 
strewed  the  path  to  heaven  with  roses;  he  conquered 
by  docility  ;  yet  under  his  sweetness  lay  strength,  and 
to  methodise  and  popularise  moral  self-superintendence 
was  to  achieve  much.  The  Traite  de  I  Amour  de  Dieu 
(1616),  while  it  expounds  the  highest  reaches  of  mystical 
devotion,  yet  presents  religion  as  accessible  to  every 
child  of  God.  With  his  tender  and  ardent  devotion, 
something  of  a  poet's  sentiment  for  nature  was  united ; 
but  mysticism  and  poetry  were  both  subservient  to  his 
aim  of  regulating  the  conduct  of  the  heart ;  he  desired 
to  show  how  one  may  remain  in  the  world,  and  yet  not 
be  of  the  world ;  by  personal  converse  and  by  his 
spiritual  letters  he  became  the  director  of  courtiers  and 
of  ladies.  The  motto  of  the  literary  Academy  which 
he  founded  at  Annecy  expresses  his  spirit — -flores  fruc- 
tusque  perennes — flowers  for  their  own  sake,  but  chiefly 
for  the  sake  of  fruit.  Much  of  the  genius  for  holiness 
of  the  courtly  saint  has  passed  into  the  volume  of 
reminiscences  by  Bishop  Camus,  his  companion  and 
disciple — I' Esprit  de  Saint  Francois  de  Sales. 

A  mundane  society,  however,  where  fine  gentlemen 
and  ladies  meet  to  admire  and  be  admired,  needs  other 
outlets  for  its  imagination  than  that  of  the  primrose 
way  to  Paradise.  The  labour  of  the  fields  had  inspired 
Olivier  de  Serres  with  the  prose  Georgics  of  his  Theatre 
d 'Agriculture,  a  work  directed  towards  utility;  the  romance 
of  the  fields,  and  the  pastoral,  yet  courtly,  loves  of  a 
French  Arcady,  were  the  inspiration  of  the  endless  prose 
bucolics  found  in  the  Astree  of  HONOR£  o'URFfi.  The 
Renaissance  delight  in  the  pastoral  had  passed  from  Italy 
to  Spain ;  through  the  Diana  of  the  Spanish  Montemayor 


THE  ASTR£E  133 

it  passed  to  France.  After  a  period  of  turbulent  strife 
there  was  a  fascination  in  visions  of  a  peace,  into  which, 
if  warfare  entered,  the  strange  irruption  only  enhanced 
an  habitual  calm.  A  whole  generation  waited  long  to 
learn  the  issue  of  the  passion  of  Celadon  and  Astre"e. 
The  romance,  of  which  the  earliest  part  appeared  in  1610, 
or  earlier,  was  not  completely  published  until  1627,  when 
its  author  was  no  longer  living.  The  scene  is  laid  in  the 
fields  of  d'Urfe's  familiar  Forez  and  on  the  banks  of 
the  Lignon  ;  the  time  is  of  Merovingian  antiquity.  The 
shepherd  Celadon,  banished  on  suspicion  of  faithless- 
ness from  the  presence  of  his  beloved  Astr6e,  seeks 
death  beneath  the  stream  ;  he  is  s:ived  by  the  nymphs, 
escapes  the  amorous  pursuit  of  Galatea,  assumes  a  femi- 
nine garb,  and,  protected  by  the  Druid  Adamas,  has 
the  felicity  of  daily  beholding  his  shepherdess.  At  length 
he  declares  himself,  and  is  overwhelmed  with  reproaches; 
true  lover  that  he  is,  when  he  offers  his  body  to  the 
devouring  lions  of  the  Fountain  of  Love,  the  beasts 
refuse  their  prey  ;  the  venerable  Druid  discreetly  guides 
events ;  Celadon's  fidelity  receives  its  reward  in  marriage, 
and  the  banks  of  the  Lignon  become  a  scene  of  universal 
joy.  The  colours  of  the  Astre'e  are  faded  now  as  those 
of  some  ancient  tapestry,  but  during  many  years  its 
success  was  prodigious.  D'Urfe's  highest  honour,  of 
many,  is  the  confession  of  La  Fontaine: — 

"  Etant  petit  gar^onje  lisais  son  roman, 
Et  je  le  Us  encore  ayant  la  barbe  grise." 

The  Astree  won  its  popularity,  in  part  because  it  united 
the  old  attraction  of  a  chivalric  or  heroic  strain  with  that 
of  the  newer  pastoral ;  in  part  because  it  idealised  the 
gallantries  and  developed  the  amorous  casuistry  of  the 


134  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

day,  not  without  a  real  sense  of  the  power  of  love  ;  in 
part  because  it  was  supposed  to  exhibit  ideal  portraits  of 
distinguished  contemporaries.  It  was  the  parent  of  a 
numerous  progeny ;  and  as  the  heroic  romance  of  the 
seventeenth  century  is  derived  in  direct  succession  from 
the  loves  of  Celadon  and  Astree,  so  the  comic  romance, 
beside  all  that  it  owes  to  the  tradition  of  the  esprit gaulois, 
owes  something  to  the  mocking  gaiety  with  which  d'Urfe 
exhibits  the  adventures  and  emotional  vicissitudes  of  his 
inconstant  shepherd  Hylas. 

In  the  political  and  social  reconstruction  which  fol- 
lowed the  civil  and  religious  wars,  the  need  of  discipline 
and  order  in  literature  was  felt ;  in  this  province,  also, 
unity  under  a  law  was  seen  to  be  desirable.  The  work 
of  the  Pleiade  had  in  a  great  measure  failed  ;  they  had 
attempted  to  organise  poetry  and  its  methods,  and  poetry 
was  still  disorganised.  To  reduce  the  realm  of  caprice 
and  fantasy  to  obedience  to  law  was  the  work  of  FRAN- 
COIS DE  MALHERBE.  Born  at  Caen  in  1555,  he  had 
published  in  1587  his  Larmes  de  Saint  Pierre,  an  imitation 
of  the  Italian  poem  by  Tansillo,  in  a  manner  which  his 
maturer  judgment  must  have  condemned.  It  was  not 
until  about  his  fortieth  year  that  he  found  his  true 
direction.  Du  Vair,  with  whom  he  was  acquainted, 
probably  led  him  to  a  true  conception  of  the  'nature  of 
eloquence.  Vigorous  of  character,  clear  in  understand- 
ing, with  no  affluence  of  imagination  and  no  excess  of 
sensibility,  Malherbe  was  well  qualified  for  establishing 
lyrical  poetry  upon  the  basis  of  reason,  and  of  general 
rather  than  individual  sentiment.  He  chose  the  themes 
of  his  odes  from  topics  of  public  interest,  or  founded 
them  on  those  commonplaces  of  emotion  which  are 
part  of  the  possession  of  all  men  who  think  and  feel. 


MALHERBE  135 

If  he  composed  his  verses  for  some  great  occasion,  he 
sought  for  no  curiosities  of  a  private  imagination,  but 
considered  in  what  way  its  nobler  aspects  ought  to  be 
regarded  by  the  community  at  large  ;  if  he  consoled  a 
friend  for  losses  caused  by  death,  he  held  his  personal 
passion  under  restraint  ;  he  generalised,  and  was  con- 
tent to  utter  more  admirably  than  others  the  accepted 
truths  about  the  brevity  and  beauty  of  life,  and  the 
inevitable  doom  of  death.  What  he  gained  by  such  a 
process  of  abstraction,  he  lost  in  vivid  characterisation ; 
his  imagery  lacks  colour ;  the  movement  of  his  verse 
is  deliberate  and  calculated  ;  his  ideas  are  rigorously 
enchained  one  to  another. 

It  has  been  said  that  poetry — the  overflow  of  indi- 
vidual emotion — is  overheard ;  while  oratory — the  appeal 
to  an  audience — is  heard.  The  processes  of  Malherbe's 
art  were  essentially  oratorical  ;  the  lyrical  cry  is  seldom 
audible  in  his  verse ;  it  is  the  poetry  of  eloquence 
thrown  into  studied  stanzas.  But  the  greater  poetry  of 
the  seventeenth  century  in  France — its  odes,  its  satires, 
its  epistles,  its  noble  dramatic  scenes — and  much  of  its 
prose  literature  are  of  the  nature  of  oratory ;  and  for 
the  progress  of  such  poetry,  and  even  of  such  prose, 
Malherbe  prepared  a  highway.  He  aimed  at  a  reforma- 
tion of  the  language,  which,  rejecting  all  words  either 
base,  provincial,  archaic,  technical,  or  over-learned  and 
over-curious,  should  employ  the  standard  French,  pure 
and  dignified,  as  accepted  by  the  people  of  Paris.  In 
his  hands  language  became  too  exclusively  an  instru- 
ment of  the  intelligence  ;  yet  with  this  instrument  great 
things  were  achieved  by  his  successors.  He  methodised 
and  regulated  versification,  insisting  on  rich  and  exact 
rhymes,  condemning  all  licence  and  infirmity  of  .structure, 


136  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

condemning  harshness  of  sound,  inversion,  hiatus,  neg- 
ligence in  accommodating  the  cesura  to  the  sense,  the 
free  gliding  of  couplet  into  couplet.  It  may  be  said  that 
he  rendered  verse  mechanical;  but  within  the  arrange- 
ment which  he  prescribed,  admirable  effects  were  attain- 
able by  the  mastery  of  genius.  He  pondered  every  word, 
weighed  every  syllable,  and  thought  no  pains  ill-spent  if 
only  clearness,  precision,  the  logic  of  ordonnance,  a 
sustained  harmony  were  at  length  secured  ;  and  until 
the  day  of  his  death,  in  1628,  no  decline  in  his  art  can 
be  perceived. 

Malherbe  fell  far  short  of  being  a  great  poet,  but 
in  the  history  of  seventeenth-century  classicism,  in  the 
effort  of  the  age  to  rationalise  the  forms  of  art,  his 
name  is  of  capital  importance.  It  cannot  be  said  that  he 
founded  a  school.  His  immediate  disciples,  MAYNARD 
and  RACAN,  failed  to  develop  the  movement  which  he 
had  initiated.  Maynard  laid  verse  by  the  side  of  verse 
with  exact  care,  and  sometimes  one  or  the  other  verse 
is  excellent,  but  he  lacked  sustained  force  and  flight. 
Racan  had  genuine  inspiration  ;  a  true  feeling  for  nature 
appears  in  his  dramatic  pastoral,  the  Bergeries  (1625)  ; 
unhappily  he  had  neither  the  culture  nor  the  patience 
needed  for  perfect  execution  ;  he  was  rather  an  admir- 
able amateur  than  an  artist.  But  if  Malherbe  founded 
no  school,  he  gave  an  eminent  example,  and  the 
argument  which  he  maintained  in  the  cause  of  poetic 
art  was  at  a  later  time  carried  to  its  conclusion  by 
Boileau. 

Malherbe's  reform  was  not  accepted  without  opposi- 
tion. While  he  pleaded  for  the  supremacy  of  order, 
regularity,  law,  the  voice  of  MATHURIN  REGNIER  (1573- 
1613)  was  heard  on  behalf  of  freedom.  A  nephew  of  the 


MATHURIN   REGNIER  137 

poet  Desportes,  Regnier  was  loyal  to  his  uncle's  fame 
and  to  the  memory  of  the  Pleiade ;  if  Malherbe  spoke 
slightingly  of  Desportes,  and  cast  aside  the  tradition  of 
the  school  of  Ronsard,  the  retort  was  speedy  and  telling 
against  the  arrogant  reformer,  tyrant  of  words  and  syl- 
lables, all  whose  achievement  amounted  to  no  more  than 
proser  de  la  rime  et  rimer  de  la  prose.  Unawares,  indeed, 
Regnier,  to  a  certain  extent,  co-operated  with  Malherbe, 
who  recognised  the  genius  of  his  younger  adversary ; 
he  turned  away  from  languid  elegances  to  observation 
of  life  and  truth  of  feeling  ;  if  he  imitated  his  masters 
Horace  and  Ovid,  or  the  Italian  satiric  poets,  with  whose 
writings  he  had  become  acquainted  during  two  periods 
of  residence  in  Rome,  his  imitations  were  not  obsequious, 
like  those  of  the  Pleiade,  but  vigorous  and  original,  like 
those  of  Boileau  ;  in  his  sense  of  comedy  he  anticipates 
some  of  Moliere's  feeling  for  the  humorous  perversities 
of  human  character ;  his  language  is  vivid,  plain,  and 
popular.  The  classical  school  of  later  years  could  not 
reject  Regnier.  Boileau  declared  that  no  poet  before 
Moliere  was  so  well  acquainted  with  the  manners  and 
characters  of  men  ;  through  his  impersonal  study  of  life 
he  is  indeed  classic.  But  his  ardent  nature  rebelled 
against  formal  rule  ;  he  trusted  to  the  native  force  of 
genius,  and  let  his  ideas  and  passions  lead  him  where 
they  would.  His  satires  are  those  of  a  painter  whose 
eye  is  on  his  object,  and  who  handles  his  brush  with  a 
vigorous  discretion  ;  they  are  criticisms  of  society  and 
its  types  of  folly  or  of  vice,  full  of  force  and  colour,  yet 
general  in  their  intention,  for,  except  at  the  poet  who 
had  affronted  his  uncle,  "  le  bon  Regnier  "  struck  at  no 
individual.  Most  admirable,  amid  much  that  is  admir- 
able, is  the  picture  of  the  old  worldling  Macette,  whose 


138  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

veil  of  pretended  piety  is  gradually  dropped  as  she  dis- 
courses with  growing  wantonness  to  the  maiden  whom 
she  would  lead  in  the  way  she  should  not  go  :  Macette 
is  no  unworthy  elder  of  the  family  of  Tartufe.  Regnier 
confesses  freely  the  passions  of  his  own  irregular  life ; 
had  it  been  wisely  conducted,  his  genius  might  have 
carried  him  far ;  as  it  was,  he  passed  away  prematurely 
at  the  age  of  forty,  the  victim  of  his  own  intemperate 
pursuit  of  pleasure. 

Still  more  unfortunate  was  the  life  of  a  younger  poet, 
who,  while  honouring  the  genius  of  Malherbe,  pro- 
nounced, like  Regnier,  for  freedom  rather  than  order, 
and  maintained  that  each  writer  of  genius  should  be  a  law 
to  himself — a  poet  whom  his  contemporaries  esteemed 
too  highly,  and  whom  Malherbe,  and  afterwards  Boileau, 
unjustly  depreciated — THEOPHILE  DE  VIAU.  A  Hugue- 
not who  had  abjured  his  faith,  afterwards  pursued  as  a 
libertine  in  conduct  and  as  a  freethinker,  Theophile  was 
hunted,  imprisoned,  exiled,  condemned  to  execution,  and 
died  exhausted  in  1626,  when  only  six -and -thirty  years 
old.  He  has  been  described  as  the  last  lyrical  poet  of 
his  age,  and  the  first  of  the  poetical  exponents  of  the 
new  preciosity.  His  dramatic  Pyrame  et  Thisbe,  though 
disfigured  by  those  concetti  which  the  Italian  Marini — an 
honoured  guest  at  the  French  court — and  the  invasion 
of  Spanish  tastes  had  made  the  mode,  is  not  without 
touches  of  genuine  pathos.  The  odes  of  Theophile  are 
of  free  and  musical  movement,  his  descriptions  of  natural 
beauty  are  graciously  coloured,  his  judgment  in  literary 
matters  was  sound  and  original ;  but  he  lacked  the 
patient  workmanship  which  art  demands,  and  in  pro- 
claiming himself  on  the  side  of  freedom  as  against 
order,  he  was  retrograding  from  the  position  which 


THE   HOTEL  DE   RAMBOUILLET  139 

had  been  secured  for  poetry  under  the  leadership  of 
Malherbe. 

With  social  order  came  the  desire  for  social  refinement, 
and  following  the  desire  for  refinement  came  the  pretti- 
nesses  and  affectations  of  over-curious  elegance.  Peace 
returned  to  France  with  the  monarchy  of  Henri  IV.,  but 
the  Gascon  manners  of  his  court  were  rude.  Catherine 
de  Vivonne,  Marquise  de  Rambouillet,  whose  mother 
was  a  great  Roman  lady,  and  whose  father  had  been 
French  ambassador  at  Rome,  young,  beautiful,  delicately 
nurtured,  retired  in  1608  from  the  court,  and  a  few  years 
later  opened  her  salon  of  the  Hotel  de  Rambouillet  to 
such  noble  and  cultivated  persons  as  were  willing  to  be 
the  courtiers  of  womanly  grace  and  wit  and  taste.  The 
rooms  were  arranged  and  decorated  for  the  purposes  of 
pleasure  ;  the  chambre  bleue  became  the  sanctuary  of  polite 
society,  where  Arthenice  (an  anagram  for  "  Catherine  ") 
was  the  high  priestess.  To  dance,  to  sing,  to  touch  the 
lute  was  well ;  to  converse  with  wit  and  refinement  was 
something  more  admirable  ;  the  salon  became  a  mart  for 
the  exchange  of  ideas  ;  the  fashion  of  Spain  was  added 
to  the  fashion  of  Italy  ;  Platonism,  Petrarchism,  Marinism, 
Gongorism,  the  spirit  of  romance  and  the  daintinesses  of 
learning  and  of  pedantry  met  and  mingled.  Hither  came 
Malherbe,  Racan,  Chapelain,  Vaugelas ;  at  a  later  time 
Balzac,  Segrais,  Voiture,  Godeau  ;  and  again,  towards 
the  mid-years  of  the  century,  Saint-Evremond  and  La 
Rochefoucauld.  Here  Corneille  read  his  plays  from  the 
Cid  to  Rodogune ;  here  Bossuet,  a  marvellous  boy,  im- 
provised a  midnight  discourse,  and  Voiture  declared  he 
had  never  heard  one  preach  so  early  or  so  late. 

As  Julie  d'Angennes  and  her  sister  Angdlique  attained 
an  age  to  divide  their  mother's  authority  in  the  salon,  its 


140  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

sentiment  grew  quintessential,  and  its  taste  was  subtilised 
well-nigh  to  inanity.  They  censured  Polyeucte ;  they 
found  Chapelain's  unhappy  epic  "  perfectly  beautiful,  but 
excessively  tiresome  "  ;  they  laid  their  heads  together  over 
Descartes'  Discours  de  la  Mcthode,  and  profoundly  admired 
the  philosopher  ;  they  were  enraptured  by  the  madrigals 
on  flowers,  more  than  three  score  in  number,  offered 
as  the  Guirlande  de  Julie  on  Mademoiselle's  fete  ;  they 
gravely  debated  the  question  which  should  be  the  ap- 
proved spelling,  muscadin  or  muscardin.  In  1649  they 
were  sundered  into  rival  parties — Uranistes  and  Jobelins 
— tilting  in  literary  lists  on  behalf  of  the  respective  merits 
of  a  sonnet  by  Voiture  and  a  sonnet  by  Benserade.  The 
word  precuux  is  said  to  date  from  1650.  The  Marquise 
de  Rambouillet  survived  Moliere's  satiric  comedy  Les 
Prdcieuses  Ridicules  (1659)  by  several  years.  Mme.  de 
Sevigne,  Mine,  de  la  Fayette,  Flechier,  the  preacher  of 
fashion,  were  among  the  illustrious  personages  of  the 
decline  of  her  salon.  We  smile  at  its  follies  and  affecta- 
tions ;  but,  while  it  harmed  literature  by  magnifying 
things  that  were  petty,  it  did  something  to  refine  man- 
ners, to  quicken  ideas,  to  encourage  clearness  and  grace 
of  expression,  and  to  make  the  pursuit  of  letters  an  avenue 
to  social  distinction.  Through  the  Hotel  de  Rambouillet, 
and  the  salons  which  both  in  Paris  and  the  provinces 
imitated  its  modes,  and  pushed  them  to  extravagance, 
the  influence  of  women  on  literature  became  a  power 
for  good  and  for  evil. 

The  "Works,"  as  they  were  styled,  of  VINCENT 
VOITURE  (1598-1648)  —  posthumously  published  —  re- 
present one  side  of  the  spirit  of  the  salon.  Capable  of 
something  higher,  he  lived  to  exhibit  his  ingenuity  and 
wit  in  little  ways,  now  by  a  cleverly-turned  verse,  now 


PSEUDO-EPICS  141 

by  a  letter  of  gallantry.  Although  of  humble  origin, 
he  was  for  long  a  presiding  genius  in  the  cJiambre  bleue 
of  Arthenice.  His  play  of  mind  was  unhappily  without 
a  subject,  and  to  be  witty  on  nothings  puts  a  strain  on 
wit.  Voiture  expends  much  labour  on  being  light,  much 
serious  effort  in  attaining  vanities.  His  letters  were 
admired  as  models  of  ingenious  elegance  ;  the  life  has 
long  since  passed  from  their  raillery  and  badinage,  but 
Voiture  may  be  credited  with  having  helped  to  render 
French  prose  pliant  for  the  uses  of  pleasure. 

The  dainty  trifles  of  the  school  of  preciosity  fluttered 
at  least  during  the  sunshine  of  a  day.  Its  ambitious 
epics,  whatever  attention  they  may  have  attracted  in 
their  time,  cannot  be  said  to  have  ever  possessed  real 
life.  The  great  style  is  not  to  be  attained  by  tagging 
platitudes  with  points.  The  Saint  Louis  of  Lemoyne, 
the  Clovis  of  Desmarets  de  Saint-Sorlin,  the  Alaric  of 
Scudery,  the  Charlemagne  of  Louis  le  Laboureur  remain 
only  as  evidences  of  the  vanity  of  misplaced  ambition. 
During  twenty  years  JEAN  CHAPELAIN,  a  man  of  no  mean 
ability  in  other  fields,  was  occupied  with  his  La  Pucelle 
d  Orleans ;  twelve  cantos  at  length  appeared  magnifi- 
cently in  1656,  and  won  a  brief  applause  ;  the  remaining 
twelve  cantos  lie  still  inedited.  The  matter  of  history 
was  too  humble  for  Chapelain's  genius  ;  history  is  en- 
nobled by  an  allegorical  intention  ;  France  becomes  the 
soul  of  man  ;  Charles,  swayed  between  good  and  evil,  is 
tlie  human  will  ;  the  Maid  of  Orleans  is  divine  grace. 
The  satire  of  .Boileau,  just  in  its  severity,  was  hardly 
needed  to  slay  the  slain. 

In  the  prose  romances,  which  are  epics  emancipated 
from  the  trammels  of  verse,  there  was  more  vitality, 
Bishop  Camus,  the  friend  of  Francois  de  Sales,  had 


142  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

attempted  to  sanctify  the  movement  which  d'Urfe"  had 
initiated  ;  but  the  spirit  of  the  Astree  would  not  unite  in 
a  single  stream  with  the  spirit  of  the  Introduction  a  la  Vie 
Devote.  Gomberville  is  remembered  rather  for  the  re- 
morseless war  which  he  waged  against  the  innocent  con- 
junction car,  never  to  be  admitted  into  polite  literature, 
than  for  his  encyclopaedic  romance  Polexandre,  in  which 
geography  is  illustrated  by  fiction,  as  copious  as  it  is 
fantastic  ;  yet  it  was  something  to  annex  for  the  first 
time  the  ocean,  with  all  its  marvels,  to  the  scenery  of 
adventure.  Gombauld,  the  Bean  Tencbreux  of  the  Hotel 
cle  Rambouillet,  secured  a  reading  for  his  unreadable 
Endymion  by  the  supposed  transparence  of  his  allusions 
to  living  persons.  Desmarets  de  Saint-Sorlin  relieved 
the  amorous  exaltations  of  his  Ariane,  a  tale  of  the  time 
of  Nero,  by  excursions  which  touch  the  borders  of 
comedy.  These  are  books  on  which  the  dust  gathers 
thick  in  ancient  libraries. 

But  the  romances  of  LA  CALPRENEDE  and  of  GEORGES 
and  MADELEINE  DE  SCUDERY  might  well  be  taken 
down  by  any  lover  of  literature  who  possesses  the 
virtue  of  fortitude.  Since  d'Urfe's  day  the  taste  for 
pastoral  had  declined ;  the  newer  romance  was  gallant 
and  heroic.  Legend  or  history  supplied  its  framework  ; 
but  the  central  motive  was  ideal  love  at  odds  with  circum- 
stance, love  the  inspirer  of  limitless  devotion  and  daring. 
The  art  of  construction  was  imperfectly  understood  ;  the 
narratives  are  of  portentous  length  ;  ten,  twelve,  twenty 
volumes  were  needed  to  deploy  the  sentiments  and  the 
adventures.  In  Cassandre,  in  Clcopdtre,  in  Pharamond, 
La  Calprenede  exhibits  a  kind  of  universal  history ; 
the  dissolution  of  the  Macedonian  empire,  the  decline 
of  the  empire  of  Rome,  the  beginnings  of  the  French 


PROSE  ROMANCES  143 

monarchy  are  successively  presented.  But  the  chief 
personages  are  idealised  portraits  drawn  from  the  society 
of  the  author's  time.  The  spirit  of  the  Hotel  de  Ram- 
bouillet  is  transferred  to  the  period  when  the  Scythian 
Oroondate  was  the  lover  of  Statira,  daughter  of  Darius ; 
the  Prince  de  Conde  masks  in  Cleopatre  as  Coriolan  ; 
Pharamond  is  the  Grand  Monarch  in  disguise.  Notwith- 
standing the  faded  gallantries  and  amorous  casuistry  of 
La  Calprenede's  interminable  romances,  a  certain  spirit  of 
real  heroism,  offspring  of  the  writer's  ardent  imagination 
and  bright  southern  temper,  breathes  through  them. 
They  were  the  delight  of  Mine,  de  Sevigne  and  of  La 
Fontaine  ;  even  in  the  eighteenth  century  they  were  the 
companions  of  Crebillon,  and  were  not  forgotten  by 
Rousseau. 

Still  more  popular  was  Artamene,  ou  le  Grand  Cyrus. 
Mdlle.  de  Scude"ry,  the  "  Sapho  "  of  her  Saturday  salon,  a 
true  jpr/aeuse,  as  good  of  heart  and  quick  of  wit  as  she 
was  unprepossessing  of  person,  supplied  the  sentiment 
and  metaphysics  of  love  to  match  the  gasconading  ex- 
ploits of  her  brother's  invention.  It  was  the  time  not 
only  of  preciosity,  but  of  the  Fronde,  with  its  turbulent 
adventures  and  fantastic  chivalry.  Under  the  names  of 
Medes  and  Persians  could  be  discovered  the  adventurers, 
the  gallants,  the  fine  ladies  of  the  seventeenth  century. 
In  Cliiie  an  attempt  is  made  to  study  the  curiosities  of 
passion  ;  it  is  a  manual  of  polite  love  and  elegant  man- 
ners ;  in  its  carte  de  Tendre  we  can  examine  the  topog- 
raphy of  love-land,  trace  the  routes  to  the  three  cities  of 
"  Tendre,"  and  learn  the  dangers  of  the  way.  Thus  the 
heroic  romance  reached  its  term  ;  its  finer  spirit  became 
the  possession  of  the  tragic  drama,  where  it  was  purified 
and  rendered  sane.  The  modern  novel  had  wandered 


144  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

in  search  of  its  true  self,  and  had  not  succeeded  in  the 
quest.  When  Gil  Bias  appeared,  it  was  seen  that  the 
novel  of  incident  must  also  be  the  novel  of  character, 
and  that  in  its  imitation  of  real  life  it  could  appropriate 
some  of  the  possessions  which  by  that  time  comedy 
had  lost. 

The  extravagances  of  sentiment  produced  a  natural 
reaction.  Not  a  few  of  the  intimates  of  the  Hotel  de 
Kambouillet  found  a  relief  from  their  fatigue  of  fine 
manners  and  high-pitched  emotions  in  the  unedifying 
jests  and  merry  tales  of  the  tavern.  A  comic,  convivial, 
burlesque  or  picaresque  literature  became,  as  it  were, 
a  parody  of  the  literature  of  preciosity.  Saint-Ainand 
(1594-1661)  was  at  once  a  disciple  of  the  Italian  Marini, 
the  admired  "  Sapurnius "  of  the  safon,  author  of  at 
least  one  beautiful  ode — La  Solitude — breathing  a  gentle 
melancholy,  and  a  gay  singer  of  bacchic  chants.  Des- 
marets  de  Saint- Sorlin,  in  his  comedy  Les  Visionnaires 
(1637),  mocked  the  predeuses,  and  was  applauded  by 
the  spectators  of  the  theatre.  One  of  his  heroines  is 
hopelessly  enamoured  of  Alexander  the  Great;  one  is 
enamoured  of  poetry,  and  sees  life  as  if  it  were  material 
for  the  stage  ;  and  the  third  is  enamoured  of  her  own 
beauty,  with  its  imagined  potency  over  the  hearts  of 
men.  As  early  as  1622  CHARLES  SOKEL  expressed,  in 
his  Histoire  Comiqne  de  Francion,  a  Rabelaisian  and 
picaresque  tale  of  low  life,  the  revolt  of  the  esprit 
gaulois  against  the  homage  of  the  imagination  to  courtly 
shepherdesses  and  pastoral  cavaliers.  It  was  reprinted 
more  than  sixty  times.  In  Le  Berger  Extravagant  (1628) 
he  attempted  a  kind  of  Don  Quixote  for  his  own  day 
— an  "anti-romance" — which  recounts  the  pastoral  follies 
of  a  young  Parisian  bourgeois,  whose  wits  have  been  set 


SCARRON  :    FURETIERE  145 

wandering  by  such  dreams  as  the  Astree  had  inspired  ; 
its  mirth  is  unhappily  overloaded  with  pedantry. 

The  master  of  this  school  of  seventeenth -century 
realism  was  PAUL  SCARRON  (1610-60),  the  comely  little 
abbe,  unconcerned  with  ecclesiastical  scruples  or  good 
manners,  who,  when  a  paralytic,  twisted  and  tortured 
by  disease,  became  the  husband  of  D'Aubigne's  grand- 
daughter, destined  as  Madame  de  Maintenon  to  become 
the  most  influential  woman  in  all  the  history  of  France. 
In  his  Virgile  Travesti  he  produced  a  vulgar  counterpart 
to  the  heroic  epics,  which  their  own  dead-weight  would 
have  speedily  enough  borne  downwards  to  oblivion. 
His  Roman  Comique  (1651),  a  short  and  lively  narrative 
of  the  adventures  of  a  troupe  of  comedians  strolling 
in  the  provinces,  contrasted  with  the  exaltations,  the 
heroisms,  the  delicate  distresses  of  the  ideal  romance. 
The  Roman  Bourgeois  (1666)  of  ANTOINE  FURETIERE  is 
a  belated  example  of  the  group  to  which  Francion 
belongs.  The  great  event  of  its  author's  life  was  his 
exclusion  from  the  Academy,  of  which  he  was  a  mem- 
ber, on  the  ground  that  he  had  appropriated  for  the 
advantage  of  his  Dictionary  the  results  of  his  fellow- 
members'  researches  for  the  Dictionary,  then  in  progress, 
of  the  learned  company.  His  Roman  is  a  remarkable 
study  of  certain  types  of  middle-class  Parisian  life,  often 
animated,  exact,  effective  in  its  satire  ;  but  the  analysis 
of  a  petty  and  commonplace  world  needs  some  relief  of 
beauty  or  generosity  to  make  its  triviality  acceptable, 
and  such  relief  Furetiere  will  not  afford. 

Somewhat  apart  from  this  group  of  satiric  tales,  yet 
with  a  certain  kinship  to  them,  lie  the  more  fantastic 
satires  of  that  fiery  swashbuckler — "demon  des  braves" 
— CYRANO  DE  BERGERAC  (1619-55),  Histoir.e  Comique 


146  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

des  Etats  et  Empire  de  la  Lune,  and  Histoire  Comique  des 
Etats  et  Empire  du  SoleiL  Cyrano's  taste,  caught  by  the 
mannerisms  of  Italy  and  extravagances  of  Spain,  was 
execrable.  To  his  violences  of  temper  he  added  a 
reputation  for  irreligion.  His  comedy  Le  Pedant  Joue 
has  the  honour  of  having  furnished  Moliere  with  the 
most  laughable  scene  of  the  Fourberies  de  Scapin.  The 
voyages  to  the  moon  and  the  sun,  in  which  the  in- 
habitants, their  manners,  governments,  and  ideas,  are 
presented,  mingle  audacities  and  caprices  of  invention 
with  a  portion  of  satiric  truth  ;  they  lived  in  the 
memories  of  the  creator  of  Gulliver  and  the  creator  of 
Micromegas. 


CHAPTER    II 

THE    FRENCH    ACADEMY— PHILOSOPHY 
(DESCARTES)— RELIGION  (PASCAL) 

THE  French  Academy,  an  organised  aristocracy  of  letters, 
expressed  the  growing  sense  that  anarchy  in  literature 
must  end,  and  that  discipline  and  law  must  be  recog- 
nised in  things  of  the  mind.  It  is  one  of  the  glories  of 
RICHELIEU  that  he  perceived  that  literature  has  a  public 
function,  and  may  indeed  be  regarded  as  an  affair  of  the 
State.  His  own  writings,  or  those  composed  under  his 
direction — memoirs;  letters;  the  Succincte  Narration, 
which  sets  forth  his  policy ;  the  Testament,  which  em- 
bodies his  counsel  in  statecraft — belong  less  to  literature 
than  to  French  history.  But  he  honoured  the  literary 
art ;  he  enjoyed  the  drama ;  he  devised  plots  for  plays, 
and  found  docile  poets — his  Society  of  five — to  carry  out 
his  designs. 

In  1629  Valentin  Conrart,  secretary  to  the  King,  and 
one  of  the  frequenters  of  the  Hotel  de  Rambouillet,  was 
accustomed  to  receive  weekly  a  group  of  distinguished 
men  of  letters  and  literary  amateurs,  who  read  their 
manuscripts  aloud,  discussed  the  merits  of  new  works, 
and  considered  questions  of  criticism,  grammar,  and 
language.  Tidings  of  these  reunions  having  reached 
Richelieu,  he  proposed  that  the  society  should  receive 
an  official  status.  By  the  influence  of  Chapelain  the 


147 


I48  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

objections  of  certain  members  were  overcome.  The 
Academic  Fran^aise  held  its  first  sitting  on  March  13, 
1634;  three  years  later  the  letters  patent  were  regis- 
tered ;  the  number  of  members  was  fixed  at  forty ; 
when  vacancies  occurred,  new  members  were  co-opted 
for  life.  Its  history  to  the  year  1652  was  published 
in  the  following  year  by  Pellisson,  and  obtained  him 
admission  to  a  chair.  The  functions  of  the  learned 
company  were  to  ascertain,  as  far  as  possible,  the 
French  language,  to  regulate  grammar,  and  to  act  as 
a  literary  tribunal  if  members  consented  to  submit  their 
works  to  its  examination.  There  were  hopes  that  autho- 
ritative treatises  on  rhetoric  and  .poetics  might  be  issued 
with  its  sanction  ;  but  these  hopes  were  not  fulfilled.  A 
dictionary,  of  which  Chapelain  presented  the  plan  in 
1638,  was,  however,  undertaken  ;  progressing  by  slow 
degrees,  the  first  edition  appeared  in  1694.  Its  aim  was 
not  to  record  every  word  of  which  an  example  could 
be  found,  but  to  select  those  approved  by  the  usage  of 
cultivated  society  and  of  the  best  contemporary  or  recent 
authors.  Thus  it  tended  to  establish  for  literary  use  an 
aristocracy  of  words ;  and  while  literary  expression  gained 
in  dignity  and  intellectual  precision,  gained  as  an  instru- 
ment of  reason  and  analysis,  such  regulation  created  a 
danger  that  it  might  lose  in  elements  that  have  affinities 
with  the  popular  mind— vivacity,  colour,  picturesqueness, 
variety.  At  its  commencement  no  one  was  more  deeply 
interested  in  the  dictionary  than  Vaugelas  (1585-1650), 
a  gentleman  of  Savoie,  whose  concern  for  the  purity 
of  the  language,  as  determined  by  the  best  usage,  led 
him  to  resist  innovations  and  the  invasion  of  foreign 
phraseology.  His  Remarques  sur  la  Langue  Fran^aise 
served  as  a  guide  to  his  fellow-members  of  the  Academy. 


BALZAC  149 

Unhappily  he  was  wholly  ignorant  of  the  history  of  the 
language.  With  the  erudite  Chapelain  he  mediated 
between  the  scholarship  and  the  polite  society  of  the 
time.  But  while  Vaugelas  was  almost  wholly  occupied 
with  the  vocabulary  and  grammar,  Chapelain  did  much 
to  enforce  the  principles  of  the  classical  school  upon 
literary  art.  The  Academy  took  up  the  work  which 
the  salons  had  begun  ;  its  spirit  was  more  robust  and 
masculine  than  theirs;  it  was  freer  from  passing  fashions, 
affectations,  prettinesses ;  it  leaned  on  the  side  of  intellect 
rather  than  of  sentiment. 

In  what  may  be  called  the  regulation  of  French  prose 
the  influence  of  JEAN-LOUIS  GUEZ  DE  BALZAC  (1594- 
1654)  was  considerable.  He  had  learnt  from  Malherbe 
that  a  literary  craftsman  should  leave  nothing  to  chance, 
that  every  effect  should  be  exactly  calculated.  It  was 
his  task  to  apply  to  prose  the  principles  which  had 
guided  his  master  in  verse.  His  Lettres,  of  which  a 
first  series  appeared  in  1624,  and  a  second  twelve  years 
later,  are  not  the  spontaneous  intercourse  of  friend  with 
friend,  but  rather  studious  compositions  which  deal  with 
matters  of  learning,  literature,  morals,  religion,  politics, 
events,  and  persons  of  the  time.  Their  contents  are  of 
little  importance  ;  Balzac  was  not  an  original  thinker, 
but  he  had  the  art  of  arranging  his  ideas,  and  of  ex- 
pressing them  in  chosen  words  marshalled  in  ample 
and  sonorous  sentences.  A  certain  fire  he  had,  a 
limited  power  of  imagination,  a  cultivated  judgment,  a 
taste,  which  suffered  from  bad  workmanship  ;  a  true 
affection  for  rural  life.  These  hardly  furnished  him 
with  matter  adequate  to  support  his  elevated  style. 
His  letters  were  regarded  as  models  of  eloquence ;  but 
it  is  eloquence  manufactured  artificially  and  applied  to 


150  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

subjects,  not  proceeding  from  them.  His  Prince,  a 
treatise  on  the  virtues  of  kings,  with  a  special  refer- 
ence to  Louis  XIII.,  was  received  coldly.  His  Aristippe, 
which  dealt  with  the  manners  and  morals  of  a  court, 
and  his  Socrate  Chretien,  a  study  in  ethics  and  theology, 
were  efforts  beyond  his  powers.  His  gift  to  literature 
was  a  gift  of  method  and  of  style  ;  others  who  worked 
in  marble  learned  something  from  his  studious  model- 
lings in  clay. 

To  regulate  thought  required  an  intellect  of  a  different 
order  from  that  of  Balzac,  "  emperor  of  orators."  It  was 
the  task  of  RENE  DESCARTES  (1596-1650).  A  child  of 
delicate  health,  born  at  La  Haye,  near  Tours,  he  became, 
under  Jesuit  teachers,  a  precocious  student  both  in  lan- 
guages and  science.  But  truth,  not  erudition,  was  the 
demand  and  the  necessity  of  his  mind.  Solitary  investi- 
gations in  mathematics  were  for  a  time  succeeded  by 
the  life  of  a  soldier  in  the  Netherlands  and  Holland.  The 
stream  of  thought  was  flowing,  however,  underground. 
Suddenly  it  emerged  to  light.  In  1619,  when  the  young 
volunteer  was  in  winter  quarters  at  Neuburg,  on  the 
Danube,  on  a  memorable  day  the  first  principles  of  a 
new  philosophical  method  presented  themselves  to  his 
intellect,  and,  as  it  were,  claimed  him  for  their  interpreter. 
After  wanderings  through  various  parts  of  Europe,  and 
a  period  of  studious  leisure  in  Paris,  he  chose  Holland 
for  his  place  of  abode  (1629),  and  though  often  shifting 
his  residence,  little  disturbed  save  by  the  controversies  of 
philosophy  and  the  orthodox  zeal  of  Dutch  theologians, 
he  gave  his  best  hours  during  twenty  years  to  thought. 
An  invitation  from  Queen  Christina  to  the  Swedish  court 
was  accepted  in  1649.  The  change  in  his  habits  and  the 
severity  of  a  northern  winter  proved  fatal  to  the  health 


DESCARTES  i  5  i 

which  Descartes  had  carefully  cherished ;   in   February 
of  1650  he  was  dead. 

The  mathematical  cycle  in  the  development  of  Des- 
cartes' system  of  thought  preceded  the  metaphysical. 
His  great  achievements  in  analytical  geometry,  in  optics, 
in  physical  research,  his  explanation  of  the  laws  of  nature, 
and  their  application  in  his  theory  of  the  material  universe^ 
belong  to  the  history  of  science.  Algebra  and  geometry 
led  him  towards  his  method  in  metaphysical  speculation. 
How  do  all  primary  truths  verify  themselves  to  the  human 
mind  ?  By  the  fact  that  an  object  is  clearly  and  distinctly 
conceived.  The  objects  of  knowledge  fall  into  certain 
groups  or  series  ;  in  each  series  there  is  some  simple 
and  dominant  element  which  may  be  immediately  ap- 
prehended, and  in  relation  to  which  the  subordinate 
elements  become  intelligible.  Let  us  accept  nothing  on 
hearsay  or  authority ;  let  us  start  with  doubt  in  order  to 
arrive  at  certitude  ;  let  us  test  the  criterion  of  certitude  to 
the  uttermost.  There  is  one  fact  which  I  cannot  doubt, 
even  in  doubting  all — I  think,  and  if  I  think,  I  exist — "Je 
pense,  done  je  suis."  No  other  evidence  of  this  is  needed 
than  that  our  conception  is  clear  and  distinct;  in  this 
clearness  and  distinctness  we  find  the  principle  of  certi- 
tude. Mind,  then,  exists,  and  is  known  to  us  as  a  thinking 
substance.  But  the  idea  of  an  infinite,  perfect  Being  is 
also  present  to  our  intellect ;  we,  finite,  imperfect  beings, 
could  not  have  made  it ;  unmake  it  we  cannot ;  and  in 
the  conception  of  perfection  that  of  existence  is  involved. 
Therefore  God  exists,  and  therefore  the  laws  of  our 
consciousness,  which  are  His  laws,  cannot  deceive  us. 
We  have  seen  what  mind  or  spirit  signifies — a  thinking 
substance.  Reduce  our  idea  of  matter  to  clearness  and 
distinctness,  and  what  do  w-e  find  ?  The  idea  of  an 


152  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

extended  substance.  Our  complex  humanity,  made  up 
of  soul  and  body,  comprises  both  kinds  of  substance. 
But  thought  and  extension  have  nothing  in  common  ; 
their  union  can  only  be  conceived  as  the  collocation 
at  a  single  point  of  a  machine  with  that  which  raises  it 
above  a  mere  machine.  As  for  the  lower  animals,  they 
are  no  more  than  automata. 

Descartes'  Principia  and  his  Meditationes  were  written 
in  Latin.  The  Discours  de  la  Methode  (1637)  anc^  the 
later  Traite  des  Passions  showed  how  the  French  lan- 
guage could  be  adapted  to  the  purposes  of  the  reason. 
Such  eloquence  as  is  found  in  Descartes  is  that  of 
thought  illuminating  style.  The  theory  of  the  passions 
anticipates  some  of  the  tendencies  of  modern  psycho- 
logy in  its  physical  investigations.  No  one,  however, 
affirmed  more  absolutely  than  Descartes  the  freedom  of 
the  will — unless,  indeed,  we  regard  it  as  determined  by 
God  :  it  cannot  directly  control  the  passions,  but  it  can 
indirectly  modify  them  with  the  aid  of  imagination  ;  it 
is  the  supreme  mistress  of  action,  however  the  passions 
may  oppose  its  fiat.  Spiritualist  as  he  was,  Descartes 
was  not  disposed  to  be  the  martyr  of  thought.  Warned 
by  the  example  of  Galileo,  he  did  not  desire  to  expose 
himself  to  the  dangers  attending  heretical  opinions.  He 
separated  the  province  of  faith  from  that  of  reason  :  "  I 
revere  our  theology,"  he  said  ;  but  he  held  that  theology 
demanded  other  lights  than  those  of  the  unaided  powers 
of  man.  In  its  own  province,  he  made  the  reason  his 
absolute  guide,  and  with  results  which  theologians  might 
regard  as  dangerous. 

The  spirit  of  Descartes'  work  was  in  harmony  writh 
that  of  his  time,  and  reacted  upon  literature.  He  sought 
for  general  truths  by  the  light  of  reason  ;  he  made  clear- 


MALEBRANCHE  153 

ness  a  criterion  of  truth  ;  he  proclaimed  man  a  spirit ; 
he  asserted  the  freedom  of  the  will.  The  art  of  the 
classical  period  sought  also  for  general  truths,  and  sub- 
ordinated imagination  to  reason.  It  turned  away  from 
ingenuities,  obscurities,  mysteries ;  it  was  essentially 
spiritualist ;  it  represented  the  crises  and  heroic  victories 
of  the  will. 

Descartes'  opponent,  Pierre  Gassendi  (1592-1655), 
epicurean  in  his  physics,  an  empiricist,  though  an  in- 
consistent one,  in  philosophy,  chose  the  Latin  language 
as  the  vehicle  for  his  ideas.  A  group  of  writers  whose 
tendencies  were  towards  sensualism  or  scepticism,  viewed 
him  as  their  master.  Chapelle  in  verse,  La  Mothe  le 
Vayer  in  prose,  may  serve  as  representatives  of  art  sur- 
rendering itself  to  vulgar  pleasures,  and  thought  doubting 
even  its  doubts,  and  finding  repose  in  indifference. 

The  true  successor  of  Descartes  in  French  philosophy, 
eminent  in  the  second  half  of  the  century,  was  NICOLAS 
DE  MALEBRANCHE  (1638-1715).  Soul  and  body,  Des- 
cartes had  shown,  are  in  their  very  nature  alien  each 
from  the  other.  How  then  does  the  soul  attain  a  know- 
ledge of  the  external  world  ?  In  God,  the  absolute 
substance,  are  the  ideas  of  all  things ;  in  God  we  behold 
those  ideas  which  matter  could  never  convey  to  us,  and 
which  we  could  never  ourselves  originate ;  in  God  we 
see  and  know  all  things.  The  Recherche  de  la  Verite 
(1674-75)  was  admirably  written  and  was  widely  read. 
The  theologians  found  it  dangerous ;  and  when  six  years 
later  Malebranche  published  his  Traite  de  la  Nature  et  de 
la  Grace,  characterised  briefly  and  decidedly  by  Bossuet  as 
"  pulchra,  nova,  falsa,"  at  Bossuet's  request  both  Arnauld 
and  Fenelon  attempted  to  refute  "the  extravagant  Ora- 
torian."  His  place  in  the  evolution  of  philosophy  lies 


154  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

between  Descartes  and  Spinoza,  who  developed  and  com- 
pleted the  doctrine  of  Descartes.  In  the  transition  from 
dualism  to  monism  Malebranche  served  as  a  mediator. 

Religious  thought  in  the  seventeenth  century,  wedded 
to  an  austere  morality,  is  expressed  by  the  writers  of 
Port-Royal,  and  those  who  were  in  sympathy  with  them. 
They  could  not  follow  the  flowery  path  of  piety — not  the 
less  the  narrow  path  because  it  was  cheerful — pointed 
out  by  St.  Francois  de  Sales.  Between  nature  and  grace 
they  saw  a  deep  and  wide  abyss.  In  closest  connection 
with  them  was  one  man  of  the  highest  genius — author 
of  the  Provinciales  and  the  Pensees — whose  spiritual 
history  was  more  dramatic  than  any  miracle-play  or 
morality  of  the  Middle  Ages. 

BLAISE  PASCAL  was  born  at  Clermont-Ferrand  in 
1623.  His  father,  a  president  of  the  Court  of  Aids  at 
Clermont,  a  man  of  intellect  and  character,  guided  his 
education  in  languages,  natural  science,  and  mathematics. 
The  boy's  precocity  was  extraordinary  ;  at  sixteen  he  had 
written  a  treatise  on  Conic  Sections,  which  excited  the 
astonishment  of  Descartes.  But  the  intensity  of  study, 
preying  upon  a  nervous  constitution,  consumed  his 
health  and  strength ;  at  an  early  age  he  suffered  from 
temporary  paralysis.  When  about  twenty-three  he  fell 
under  the  religious  influences  of  certain  disciples  of  St. 
Cyran,  read  eagerly  in  the '  writings  of  Jansen  and 
Arnauld,  and  resolved  to  live  for  God  alone.  But  to 
restore  his  health  he  was  urged  to  seek  recreation,  and 
by  degrees  the  interests  and  pleasures  of  the  world 
took  hold  upon  him  ;  the  master  of  his  mind  was  the 
sceptical  Montaigne  ;  he  moved  in  the  mundane  society 
of  the  capital ;  and  it  has  been  conjectured  from  hints 
in  his  Discours  sur  ks  Passions  dc  I' Amour  that  he  loved 


PASCAL  i 5  5 

the  sister  of  his  friend,  the  Due  de  Roannez,  and  had 
the  vain  hope  of  making  her  his  wife. 

The  spirit  of  religion,  however,  lived  within  his  heart, 
and  needed  only  to  be  reawakened.  The  reawakening 
came  in  1654  through  the  persuasions  of  his  sister, 
Jacqueline,  who  had  abandoned  the  world  two  years 
previously,  and  entered  the  community  of  Port-Royal. 
The  abbey  of  Port-Royal,  situated  some  seven  or  eight 
miles  from  Versailles,  was  presided  over  by  Jacqueline 
Arnauld,  the  Mere  Angelique,  and  a  brotherhood  of 
solitaries,  among  whom  were  several  of  the  Arnauld 
family,  had  settled  in  the  valley  in  the  year  1637.  With 
this  unvowed  brotherhood  Pascal,  though  never  actually 
a  solitary,  associated  himself  at  the  close  of  1654.  An 
escape  from  sudden  danger  in  a  carriage  accident, 
and  a  vision  or  ecstasy  which  came  to  him,  co-operated 
in  his  conversion.  After  his  death,  copies  of  a  frag- 
mentary and  passionate  writing  referring  to  this  period 
— the  so-called  "amulet"  of  Pascal — were  found  upon 
his  person  ;  its  words,  "  renonciation  totale  et  douce," 
and  "joie,  joie,  joie,  pleurs  de  joie,"  express  something 
of  his  resolution  and  his  rapture. 

The  affair  of  the  Provinciates,  and  the  design  of  an 
apology  for  Christianity  with  which  his  Pensees  are 
connected,  together  with  certain  scientific  studies  and 
the  deepening  passion  of  religion,  make  up  what  re- 
mained of  Pascal's  life.  His  spirit  grew  austere,  but  in 
his  austerity  there  was  an  inexpressible  joy.  Exhausted 
by  his  ascetic  practices  and  the  inward  flame  of  his 
soul,  Pascal  died  on  August  19,  1662.  "  May  God  never 
leave  me  "  were  his  last  words. 

With  Pascal's  work  as  a  mathematician  and  a  physicist 
we  are  not  here  concerned.  In  it  "we  see,"  writes  a 


156  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

scientific  authority,  "the  strongest  marks  of  a  great 
original  genius  creating  new  ideas,  and  seizing  upon, 
mastering,  and  pursuing  further  everything  that  was 
fresh  and  unfamiliar  in  his  time.  After  the  lapse  of 
more  than  two  hundred  years,  we  can  still  point  to 
much  in  exact  science  that  is  absolutely  his  ;  and  we 
can  indicate  infinitely  more  which  is  due  to  his  in- 
spiration." 

Jansenism  and  Jesuitism,  opposed  as  they  were,  have 
this  in  common,  that  both  were  movements  in  that 
revival  of  Roman  Catholicism  which  was  stimulated  by 
the  rivalry  of  the  Protestant  Reformation.  But  the 
Jesuits  sought  to  win  the  world  to  religion  by  an  art 
of  piety,  in  which  a  system  of  accommodation  was 
recognised  as  a  means  of  drawing  worldlings  to  the 
Church  ;  the  Jansenists  held  up  a  severe  moral  ideal, 
and  humbled  human  nature  in  presence  of  the  absolute 
need  and  resistless  omnipotence  of  divine  grace.  Like 
the  Jesuits,  but  in  a  different  spirit,  the  Port-Royalists 
devoted  themselves  much  to  the  task  of  education.  They 
honoured  classical  studies  ;  they  honoured  science,  dia- 
lectics, philosophy.  Their  grammar,  logic,  geometry 
were  substantial  additions  to  the  literature  of  pedagogy. 
Isaac  le  Maistre  de  Sacy  and  others  translated  and 
annotated  the  Bible.  Their  theologian,  moralist,  and 
controversialist,  Pierre  Nicole  (1625-95),  author  of 
Essais  de  Morale  (1671),  if  not  profound  or  brilliant,  was 
the  possessor  of  learning,  good  sense,  good  feeling,  and 
religious  faith.  Under  the  influence  of  St.  Cyran,  the 
Port-Royalists  were  in  close  sympathy  with  the  teaching 
of  Jansen,  Bishop  of  Ypres ;  the  writings  of  their  great 
theologian  Antoine  Arnauld  were  vigorously  anti-Jesu- 
itical. In  1653  five  propositions,  professedly  extracted 


THE   "LETTRES  PROVINCIALES "  157 

from  Jansen's  Augustinus,  were  condemned  by  a  Papal 
bull.  The  insulting  triumph  of  the  Jesuits  drew  Arnauld 
again  into  controversy  ;  and  on  a  question  concerning 
divine  grace  he  was  condemned  in  January  1656  by  the 
Sorbonne.  "You  who  are  clever  and  inquiring"  (curieux), 
said  Arnauld  to  Pascal,  "  you  ought  to  do  something." 
Next  day  was  written  the  first  of  Pascal's  Lettres  a  un 
Provincial,  and  on  23rd  January  it  was  issued  to  the 
public  ;  a  second  followed  within  a  week ;  the  success 
was  immense.  The  writer  concealed  his  identity  under 
the  pseudonym  "  Louis  de  Montalte." 

The  Lettres  Provinciates  are  eighteen  in  number.  The 
first  three  and  the  last  three  deal  with  the  affair  of 
Arnauld  and  the  Sorbonne,  and  the  questions  under 
discussion  as  to  the  nature  and  the  need  of  divine 
grace.  In  the  opening  letters  the  clearest  intellectual 
insight  and  the  deepest  seriousness  of  spirit  are  united 
with  the  finest  play  of  irony,  and  even  with  the  temper 
of  comedy.  The  supposed  Louis  de  Montalte,  seeking 
theological  lights  from  a  doctor  of  the  Sorbonne,  finds 
only  how  hopelessly  divided  in  opinion  are  the  opponents 
of  Arnauld,  and  how  grotesquely  they  darken  counsel 
with  speech.  In  the  twelve  letters  intervening  between 
the  third  and  the  sixteenth,  Pascal  takes  the  offensive, 
and  deploys  an  incomparably  skilful  attack  on  the  moral 
theology  of  the  Jesuits.  For  the  rigid  they  may  have  a 
stricter  morality,  but  for  the  lax  their  casuistry  supplies 
a  pliable  code  of  morals,  which,  by  the  aid  of  ingenious 
distinctions,  can  find  excuses  for  the  worst  of  crimes. 
With  force  of  logic,  with  fineness  of  irony,  with  energy 
of  moral  indignation,  with  a  literary  style  combining 
strength  and  lightness,  Pascal  presses  his  irresistible 
assault.  The  effect  of  the  "  Provincial  Letters "  was  to 


158  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

carry  the  discussion  of  morals  and  theology  before  a 
new  court  of  appeal — not  the  Sorbonne,  but  the  public 
intelligence  and  the  unsophisticated  conscience  of  men. 
To  French  prose  they  added  a  masterpiece  and  a 
model. 

The  subject  of  the  Provinciates  is  in  part  a  thing  of  the 
past ;  the  Pensfos  deal  with  problems  which  can  never 
lose  their  interest.  Among  Pascal's  papers  were  found, 
after  his  early  death,  many  fragments  which  his  sister, 
Madame  Perier,  and  his  friends  recognised  as  of  rare 
value ;  but  the  editors  of  the  little  volume  which  ap- 
peared in  1670,  imagining  that  they  could  safeguard  its 
orthodoxy,  and  even  amend  its  style,  freely  omitted  and 
altered  what  Pascal  had  written.  It  was  not  until  1844 
that  a  complete  and  genuine  text  was  established  in  the 
edition  of  M.  Faugere,  We  can  hardly  hope  to  arrange 
the  fragments  so  as  to  exhibit  the  design  of  that  apology 
for  Christianity,  with  which  many  of  them  were  doubt- 
less connected,  but  the  main  outlines  of  Pascal's  body  of 
thought  can  be  clearly  discerned. 

The  intellect  of  Pascal,  so  powerful  in  its  grasp  of 
scientific  truth,  could  find  by  its  own  researches  no 
certitude  in  the  sphere  of  philosophy  and  religion.  He 
had  been  deeply  influenced  by  the  sceptical  mind  of 
Montaigne.  He  found  within  him  a  passionate  craving 
for  certitude ;  man  is  so  constituted  that  he  can  never 
be  at  rest  until  he  rests  in  knowledge  of  the  truth  ;  but 
man,  as  he  now  exists,  is  incapable  of  ascertaining  truth; 
he  is  weak  and  miserable,  and  yet  the  very  consciousness 
of  his  misery  is  evidence  of  his  greatness ;  "  Nature 
confounds  the  Pyrrhonist,  and  reason  the  dogmatist;" 
"  Man  is  but  a  reed,  the  feeblest  of  created  things,  but 
a  reed  which  thinks."  How  is  this  riddle  of  human 


PASCAL'S   "PENSEES"  159 

nature  to  be  explained  ?  Only  in  one  way — by  a  recog- 
nition of  the  truth  taught  by  religion,  that  human  nature 
is  fallen  from  its  true  estate,  that  man  is  a  dethroned 
king.  And  how  is  the  dissonance  in  man's  nature  to  be 
overcome  ?  Only  in  one  way — through  union  with  God 
made  man ;  with  Jesus  Christ,  the  centre  in  which  alone 
we  find  bur  weakness  and  the  divine  strength.  Through 
Christ  man  is  abased  and  lifted  up — abased  without  de- 
spair, and  lifted  up  without  pride  ;  in  Him  all  contradic- 
tions are  reconciled.  Such,  in  brief,  is  the  vital  thought 
from  which  Pascal's  apologetic  proceeds.  It  does  not 
ignore  any  of  the  external  evidences  of  Christianity;  but 
the  irresistible  evidence  is  that  derived  from  the  problem 
of  human  nature  and  the  essential  needs  of  the  spirit — 
a  problem  which  religion  alone  can  solve,  and  needs 
which  Christ  alone  can  satisfy.  Pascal's  "Thoughts" 
are  those  of  an  eminent  intelligence.  But  they  are  more 
than  thoughts ;  they  are  passionate  lyrical  cries  of  a 
heart  which  had  suffered,  and  which  had  found  more 
than  consolation ;  they  are  the  interpretation  of  the 
words  of  his  amulet — "Joie,  joie,  joie,  pleurs  de  joie." 
The  union  of  the  ardour  of  a  poet  or  a  saint  with  the 
scientific  rigour  of  a  great  geometer,  of  wit  and  brilliance 
with  a  sublime  pathos,  is  among  the  rarest  phenomena 
in  literature ;  all  this  and  more  is  found  in  Pascal. 


CHAPTER    III 
THE  DRAMA   (MONTCHRESTIEN  TO  CORNEILLE) 

THE  classical  and  Italian  drama  of  the  sixteenth  century 
was  literary,  oratorical,  lyrical ;  it  was  anything  but 
dramatic.  Its  last  representative,  ANTOINE  DE  MONT- 
CHRESTIEN (1575-1621),  a  true  poet,  and  one  whose  life 
was  a  series  of  strange  adventures,  wrote,  like  his  pre- 
decessors, rather  for  the  readers  of  poetry  than  for  the 
theatre.  With  a  gift  for  style,  and  a  lyrical  talent,  seen 
not  only  in  the  chants  of  the  chorus,  but  in  the  general 
character  of  his  dramas,  he  had  little  feeling  for  life 
and  movement ;  his  personages  expound  their  feelings 
in  admirable  verse  ;  they  do  not  act.  He  attempted  a 
tragedy — L Ecossaise — on  the  story  of  Mary,  Queen  of 
Scots,  a  theme  beyond  his  powers.  In  essentials  he 
belonged  rather  to  the  past,  whose  traditions  he  in- 
herited, than  to  the  future  of  the  stage.  But  his  feeling 
for  grandeur  of  character,  for  noble  attitudes,  for  the 
pathetic  founded  on  admiration,  and  together  with  these 
the  firm  structure  of  his  verse,  seem  to  warrant  one  in 
thinking  of  him  as  in  some  respects  a  forerunner  of 
Corneille. 

At  the  Hotel  de  Bourgogne,  until  1599,  the  Confreres 
de  la  Passion  still  exhibited  the  mediaeval  drama.  It- 
passed  away  when  their  theatre  was  occupied  by  the 

company  of  Valleran  Lecomte,  who  had  in  his  pay  a 

160 


ALEXANDRE  HARDY  161 

dramatist  of  inexhaustible  fertility — ALEXAXDRE  HARDY 
(c.  1560  to  c.  1630).  During  thirty  years,  from  the  open- 
ing of  the  seventeenth  century  onwards,  Hardy,  author 
of  some  six  or  seven  hundred  pieces,  of  which  forty-one 
remain,  reigned  as  master  of  the  stage.1  A  skilful  impro- 
visor,  devoid  of  genius,  devoid  of  taste,  he  is  the  founder 
of  the  French  theatre ;  he  first  made  a  true  appeal  to 
the  people  ;  he  first  showed  a  true  feeling  for  theatrical 
effects.  Wherever  material  suitable  for  his  purposes 
could  be  caught  at — ancient  or  modern,  French,  Italian, 
or  Spanish — Hardy  made  it  his  own.  Whatever  form 
seemed  likely  to  win  the  popular  favour,  this  he  accepted 
or  divined.  The  Astree  had  made  pastoral  the  fashion  ; 
Hardy  was  ready  with  his  pastoral  dramas.  The  Italian 
and  Spanish  novels  were  little  tragi-comedies  waiting 
to  be  dramatised  ;  forthwith  Hardy  cast  them  into  a 
theatrical  mould.  Writing  for  the  people,  he  was  not 
trammelled  by  the  unities  of  time  and  place  ;  the  medi- 
aeval stage  arrangements  favoured  romantic  freedom. 
In  his  desire  to  please  a  public  which  demanded  anima- 
tion, action,  variety,  Hardy  allowed  romantic  incident 
to  predominate  over  character ;  hence,  though  he  pro- 
duced tragedies  founded  on  legendary  or  historical  sub- 
jects, his  special  talent  is  seen  rather  in  tragi-comedy. 
He  complicated  the  intrigue,  he  varied  the  scenes,  he 
shortened  the  monologues,  he  suppressed  or  reduced 
the  chorus — in  a  word,  the  drama  in  his  hands  ceased 
to  be  oratorical  or  lyrical,  and  became  at  length  dramatic. 
The  advance  was  great ;  and  it  was  achieved  by  a  hack 
playwright  scrambling  for  his  crusts  of  bread. 

But  to  dramatic  life  and  movement  it  was  necessary 
that  order,  discipline,  regulation  should  be  added.     The 

1  Or  thirty-four  pieces,  if  Thcagene  et  Cariclee  be  reckoned  as  only  one. 


1 62  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

rules  of  the  unities  were  not  observed  by  Hardy — were 
perhaps  unknown  to  him.  But  they  were  known  to 
others.  Jean  de  Schelandre  (the  pseudonym  formed 
from  the  letters  of  his  name  being  Daniel  d'Ancheres), 
in  his  vast  drama  in  two  parts,  Tyr  et  Sidon,  claimed  all 
the  freedom  of  the  mysteries  in  varying  the  scene,  in 
mingling  heroic  matter  with  buffoonery.  In  the  edition 
of  1628  a  preface  appears  by  Francois  Ogier,  a  learned 
churchman,  maintaining  that  the  modern  stage,  in  ac- 
cordance with  altered  circumstances,  should  maintain  its 
rights  to  complete  imaginative  liberty  against  the  autho- 
rity of  the  Greeks,  who  presented  their  works  before 
different  spectators  under  different  conditions.  Ogier's 
protest  was  without  effect.  Almost  immediately  after  its 
appearance  the  Sophonisbe  of  Jean  de  Mairet  was  given, 
and  the  classical  tragedy  of  France  was  inaugurated  on 
a  popular  stage.  In  the  preface  to  his  pastoral  tragi- 
comedy Sylvanire,  Mairet  in  1631  formulated  the  doctrine 
of  the  unities.  The  adhesion  of  Richelieu  and  the  advo- 
cacy of  Chapelain  insured  their  triumph.  The  "rules" 
came  to  be  regarded  as  the  laws  of  a  literary  species. 

The  influence  of  the  Spanish  drama,  seen  in  the  writ- 
ings of  Rotrou  and  others,  might  be  supposed  to  make 
for  freedom.  It  encouraged  romantic  inventions  and 
ambitious  extravagances  of  style.  Much  that  is  rude 
and  unformed  is  united  with  a  curiosity  for  points  and 
laboured  ingenuity  in  the  dramatic  work  of  Scudery, 
Du  Ryer,  Tristan  1'Hermite.  A  greater  dramatist  than 
these  showed  how  Spanish  romance  could  coalesce  with 
French  tragedy  in  a  drama  which  marks  an  epoch— 
the  Cid ;  and  the  Cid,  calling  forth  the  judgment  of  the 
Academy,  served  to  establish  the  supremacy  of  the  so- 
called  rules  of  Aristotle. 


PIERRE  CORNEILLE  163 

PIERRE  CORNEILLE,  son  of  a  legal  official,  was  born 
at  Rouen  in  1606.  His  high  promise  as  a  pupil  of  the 
Jesuits  was  not  confirmed  when  he  attempted  to  practise 
at  the  bar ;  he  was  retiring,  and  spoke  with  difficulty. 
At  twenty-three  his  first  dramatic  piece,  Melite,  a  comedy, 
suggested,  it  is  told,  by  an  adventure  of  his  youth,  was 
given  with  applause  in  Paris  ;  it  glitters  with  points,  and 
is  of  a  complicated  intrigue,  but  to  contemporaries  the 
plot  appeared  less  entangled  and  the  style  more  natural 
than  they  seem  to  modern  readers.  The  tragi-comedy, 
Clitandre,  which  followed  (1632),  was  a  romantic  drama, 
crowded  with  extravagant  incidents,  after  the  manner  of 
Hardy.  In  La  Veuve  he  returned  to  the  style  of  Me'life, 
but  with  less  artificial  brilliance  and  more  real  vivacity  ; 
it  was  published  with  laudatory  verses  prefixed,  in  one  of 
which  Scudery  bids  the  stars  retire  for  the  sun  has  risen. 
The  scene  is  laid  in  Paris,  and  some  presentation  of  con- 
temporary manners  is  made  in  La  Galerie  du  Palais  and 
La  Place  Roy  ale.  It  was  something  to  replace  the  nurse 
of  elder  comedy  by  the.  soubrette.  The  attention  of 
Richelieu  was  attracted  to  the  new  dramatic  author ; 
he  \vas  numbered  among  the  five  gardens  poetes  who 
worked  upon  the  dramatic  plans  of  the  Cardinal ;  but 
he  displeased  his  patron  by  his  imaginative  independ- 
ence. Providing  himself  with  a  convenient  excuse, 
Corneille  retired  to  Rouen. 

These  early  works  were  ventures  among  which  the 
poet  was  groping  for  his  true  way.  He  can  hardly  be 
said  to  have  found  it  in  Medce  (1635),  but  it  was  an 
advance  to  have  attempted  tragedy;  the  grandiose  style 
of  Seneca  was  a  challenge  to  his  genius ;  and  in  the 
famous  line — 

"Dans  un  si  grand  revcrs,  que  vous  reste-t-il?    Mot  /" 


1 64  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

we  see  the  flash  of  his  indomitable  pride  of  will,  we 
hear  the  sudden  thunder  of  his  verse.  An  acquaint- 
ance, M.  de  Chalon,  who  had  been  one  of  the  household 
of  Marie  de  Medicis,  directed  Corneille  to  the  Spanish 
drama.  The  Illusion  Comique,  the  latest  of  his  tentative 
plays,  is  a  step  towards  the  Cid ;  its  plot  is  fantastical, 
but  in  some  of  the  fanfaronades  of  the  braggart  Mata- 
more,  imported  from  Spain,  are  pseudo-heroics  which 
only  needed  a  certain  transposition  to  become  the  lan- 
guage of  chivalric  heroism.  The  piece  closes  with  a 
lofty  eulogy  of  the  French  stage. 

The  sun  had  indeed  risen  and  the  stars  might  dis- 
appear when  in  the  closing  days  of  1636  the  Cid  was 
given  in  Paris  at  the  Theatre  du  Marais ;  the  eulogy  of 
the  stage  was  speedily  justified  by  its  author.  His  subject 
was  found  by  Corneille  in  a  Spanish  drama,  Las  Moce- 
dades  del  Cid,  by  Guilhem  de  Castro  ;  the  treatment  was 
his  own  ;  he  reduced  the  action  from  that  of  a  chronicle- 
history  to  that  of  a  tragedy ;  he  centralised  it  around 
the  leading  personages ;  he  transferred  it  in  its  essen- 
tial causes  from  the  external  world  of  accident  to  the 
inner  world  of  character  ;  the  critical  events  are  moral 
events,  victories  of  the  soul,  triumphs  not  of  fortune 
but  of  the  will.  And  thus,  though  there  are  epic  epi- 
sodes and  lyric  outbreaks  in  the  play,  the  Cid  defi- 
nitely fixed,  for  the  first  time  in  France,  the  type  of 
tragedy.  The  central  tragic  strife  here  is  not  one  of 
rival  houses.  Rodrigue,  to  avenge  his  father's  wrong, 
has  slain  the  father  of  his  beloved  Chimene  ;  Chimene 
demands  from  the  King  the  head  of  her  beloved 
Rodrigue.  In  the  end  Rodrigue's  valour  atones  for 
his  offence.  The  struggle  is  one  of  passion  with 
honour  or  duty ;  the  fortunes  of  the  hero  and  heroine 


THE  CID:    HORACE  165 

are  affected  by  circumstance,  but  their  fate  lies  in  their 
own  high  hearts. 

The  triumph  of  Corneille's  play  was  immense.  The 
Cardinal,  however,  did  not  join  in  it.  Richelieu's  in- 
tractable poet  had  glorified  Spain  at  an  inconvenient 
moment ;  he  had  offered  an  apology  for  the  code  of 
honour  when  edicts  had  been  issued  to  check  the  rage 
of  the  duel ;  yet  worse,  he  had  not  been  crushed  by 
the  great  man's  censure.  The  quarrel  of  the  Cid,  in 
which  Mairet  and  Scudery  took  an  embittered  part,  was 
encouraged  by  Richelieu.  He  pressed  the  Academy, 
of  which  Corneille  was  not  a  member  until  1647, 
for  a  judgment  upon  the  piece,  and  at  length  he  was 
partially  satisfied  by  a  pronouncement,  drawn  up  by 
Chapelain,  which  condemned  its  ethics  and  its  violation 
of  dramatic  proprieties,  yet  could  not  deny  the  author's 
genius.  Corneille  was  deeply  discouraged,  but  prepared 
himself  for  future  victories. 

Until  1640  he  remained  silent.  In  that  illustrious 
year  Horace  and  Cinna  were  presented  in  rapid  succes- 
sion. From  Spain,  the  land  of  chivalric  honour,  the 
dramatist  passed  to  antique  Rome,  the  mother  and  the 
nurse  of  heroic  virtue.  In  the  Cid  the  dramatic  con- 
flict is  between  love  and  filial  duty ;  in  Horace  it  is 
between  love,  on  the  one  side,  united  with  the  domestic 
affections,  and,  on  the  other,  devotion  to  country.  In 
both  plays  the  inviolable  will  is  arbiter  of  the  conten- 
tion. The  story  of  the  Horatii  and  Curiatii,  as  told  by 
Livy,  is  complicated  by  the  union  of  the  families  through 
love  and  marriage;  but  patriotism  requires  the  sacrifice 
of  the  tenderer  passions.  It  must  be  admitted  that  the 
interest  declines  after  the  third  act,  and  that  our  sym- 
pathies are  alienated  from  the  younger  Horace  by  the 


1 66  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

murder  of  a  sister  ;  we  are  required  to  feel  that  a  private 
crime,  the  offence  of  overstrained  patriotism,  is  obliterated 
in  the  glory  of  the  country.  In  Cinna  we  pass  from  regal 
to  imperial  Rome  ;  the  commonwealth  is  represented  by 
Augustus;  a  great  monarchy  is  glorified,  but  in  the  noblest 
way,  for  the  highest  act  of  empire  is  to  wield  supreme 
power  under  the  sway  of  magnanimity,  and  to  remain 
the  master  of  all  self-regarding  passions.  The  con- 
spiracy of  Cinna  is  discovered  ;  it  is  a  prince's  part  to 
pardon,  and  Augustus  rises  to  a  higher  empire  than  that 
of  Rome  by  the  conquest  of  himself.  In  both  Horace 
and  Cinna  there  are  at  times  a  certain  overstrain,  an 
excess  of  emphasis,  a  resolve  to  pursue  heroism  to  all 
extremities  ;  but  the  conception  of  moral  grandeur  is 
genuine  and  lofty  ;  the  error  of  Corneille  was  the  error 
of  an  imagination  enamoured  of  the  sublime. 

But  are  there  not  heroisms  of  religion  as  pure  as  those 
of  patriotism  ?  And  must  we  go  back  to  pagan  days 
to  find  the  highest  virtue  ?  Or  can  divine  grace  effect 
no  miracles  above  those  of  the  natural  will  ?  Corneille 
gives  his  answer  to  such  a  challenge  in  the  tragedy 
of  Polyeucte  (1643).  It  is  the  story  of  Christian  mar- 
tyrdom ;  a  homage  rendered  to  absolute  self-devotion 
to  the  ideal;  a  canticle  intoned  in  celebration  of  heavenly 
grace.  Polyeucte,  the  martyr,  sacrifices  to  his  faith  not 
only  life,  but  love  ;  his  wife,  who,  while  she  knew  him 
imperfectly,  gave  him  an  imperfect  love,  is  won  both 
for  God  and  for  her  husband  by  his  heroism  ;  she  is 
caught  away  from  her  tenderness  for  Severe  into  the 
flame  of  Polyeucte's  devout  rapture  ;  and  through  her 
Severe  himself  is  elevated  to  an  unexpected  magnanimity. 
The  family,  the  country,  the  monarchy,  religion — these 
in  turn  were  honoured  by  the  genius  of  Corneille.  He 


LE  MENTEUR  167 

had  lifted  the  drama  from  a  form  of  loose  diversion 
to  be  a  great  art  ;  he  had  recreated  it  as  that  noblest 
pastime  whose  function  is  to  exercise  and  invigorate 
the  soul. 

The  transition  from  Polyeucte  to  Le  Menteur,  of  the 
same  year,  is  among  the  most  surprising  in  literature.1 
From  the  most  elevated  of  tragedies  we  pass  to  a 
comedy,  which,  while  not  belonging  to  the  great  comedy 
of  character,  is  charmingly  gay.  We  expect  no  grave 
moralities  here,  nor  do  we  find  them.  The  play  is  a 
free  and  original  adaptation  from  a  work  of  the  Spanish 
dramatist  Alarcon,  but  in  Corneille's  hands  it  becomes 
characteristically  French.  Young  Dorante,  the  liar, 
invents  his  fictions  through  an  irresistible  genius  for 
romancing.  His  indignant  father  may  justly  ask,  Has 
he  a  heart  ?  Is  he  a  gentleman  ?  But  how  can  a  youth 
with  such  a  pretty  wit  resist  the  fascination  of  his  own 
lies  ?  He  is  sufficiently  punished  by  the  fact  that  they 
do  not  assist,  but  rather  trouble,  the  course  of  his  love 
adventure,  and  we  demand  no  further  poetical  justice. 
In  Corneille's  art,  tragedy  had  defined  itself,  and  comedy 
was  free  to  be  purely  comic  ;  but  it  is  also  literary — 
light,  yet  solid  in  structure  ;  easy,  yet  exact  in  style. 
The  Suite  du  Menteur,  founded  on  a  comedy  by  Lope 
de  Vega,  has  a  curious  attraction  of  its  own,  half-fantastic 
as  it  is,  and  half-realistic ;  yet  it  has  shared  the  fate  of 
all  continuations,  and  could  not  attain  the  popularity 
of  its  predecessor.  It  lacks  gaiety ;  the  liar  has  sunk 
into  a  rascal,  and  we  can  hardly  lend  credence  to  the 
amendment  in  his  mendacious  habit  when  he  applies 
the  art  of  dissimulation  to  generous  purposes. 

These  are  the  masterpieces  of  Corneille.     Already  in 

1  Polyeucte  may  possibly  be  as  early  as  1641. 


1 68  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

Pompee,  although  its  date  is  that  of  Polyeucte,  while  the 
great  dramatist  is  present  throughout,  he  is  not  always 
present  at  his  best.  It  should  not  surprise  us  that 
Corneille  preferred  Lucan  to  Virgil.  Something  of  the 
over-emphasis  of  the  Pharsalia,  his  original,  has  entered 
into  the  play;  but  the  pomp  of  the  verse  is  no  vulgar 
pomp.  A  graver  fault  is  the  want  of  a  dramatic  centre 
for  the  action,  which  tends  too  much  towards  the  epic. 
Pompey  is  the  presiding  power  of  the  tragedy ;  his  spirit 
dominates  the  lesser  characters  ;  but  he  does  not  appear 
in  person.  The  political  interest  develops  somewhat  to 
the  subordination  of  the  personal  interest.  Corneille's 
unhappy  theory  of  later  years,  that  love  is  unworthy  of 
a  place  in  high  tragedy,  save  as  an  episode,  is  here 
exemplified  in  the  passion  of  Cresar  for  Cleopatra ;  but, 
in  truth,  love  is  too  sovereign  a  power  to  admit  of  its 
being  tagged  to  tragedy  as  an  ornament. 

Until  1636  Corneille  was  seeking  his  way.  From  1636 
to  1644  his  genius  soared  on  steady  pinions.  During 
the  eight  years  that  followed  he  triumphed,  but  he  also 
faltered.  Rodogune  (1644),  which  he  preferred  to  all  his 
other  plays,  is  certainly,  by  virtue  of  the  enormity  of  the 
characters,  the  violence  of  the  passions,  the  vastness  of 
its  crimes,  the  most  romantic  of  his  tragedies ;  it  is  con- 
structed with  the  most  skilful  industry ;  from  scene  to 
scene  the  emotion  is  intensified  and  heightened  until 
the  great  fifth  act  is  reached ;  but  if  by  incompar- 
able audacity  the  dramatist  attains  the  ideal,  it  is  an 
ideal  of  horror.  T/teodore,  a  second  play  of  martyr- 
dom, fell  far  below  Polyeucte.  Heraclius  is  obscure 
through  the  complication  of  its  intrigue.  Don  Sanche 
d'Aragon,  a  romantic  tragi-comedy,  is  less  admirable  as 
a  whole  than  in  the  more  brilliant  scenes.  In  the  his- 


CORNEILLE'S  DECLINE  169 

torical  drama  Nicomcde  (1651),  side  by  side  with  tragic 
solemnities  appears  matter  of  a  familiar  kind.  It  was 
the  last  great  effort  of  its  author's  genius.  The  failure 
of  Pertharite,  in  1652,  led  to  the  withdrawal  of  Corneille 
from  the  theatre  during  seven  years.  He  completed 
during  his  seclusion  a  rendering  into  verse  of  the 
Imitation  of  Jesus  Christ.  When  he  returned  to  the 
stage  it  was  with  enfeebled  powers,  which  were  over- 
strained by  the  effort  of  his  will ;  yet  he  could  still  write 
noble  lines,  and  in  the  tragedy-ballet  of  Psyche,  in  which 
Quinault  and  Moliere  were  his  collaborators,  the  most 
charming  verses  are  those  of  Corneille.  His  young 
rival  Racine  spoke  to  the  hearts  of  a  generation  less 
heroic  and  swayed  by  tenderer  passion,  and  the  old 
man  resented  the  change.  Domestic  sorrows  were 
added  to  the  grief  of  ill  success  in  his  art.  Living 
simply,  his  means  were  narrow  for  his  needs.  The  last 
ten  years  of  his  life  were  years  of  silence.  He  died  in 
1684,  at  the  age  of  seventy-eight. 

The  drama  of  Corneille  deals  with  what  is  extraordi- 
nary, but  in  what  is  extraordinary  it  seeks  for  truth. 
He  finds  the  marvellous  in  the  triumphs  of  the  human 
will.  His  great  inventive  powers  were  applied  to  creat- 
ing situations  for  the  manifestation  of  heroic  energy. 
History  attracted  him,  because  a  basis  of  fact  seemed 
to  justify  what  otherwise  could  not  be  accepted  as  pro- 
bable. Great  personages  suited  his  purpose,  because  they 
can  deploy  their  powers  on  the  amplest  scale.  His  char- 
acters, men  and  women,  act  not  through  blind,  instinc- 
tive passion,  but  with  deliberate  and  intelligent  force ; 
they  reason,  and  too  often  with  casuistical  subtlety, 
about  their  emotions.  At  length  he  came  to  glorify 
the  will  apart  from  its  aims  and  ends,  when  tending 


1 70  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

even  to  crime,  or  acting,  as  it  were,  in  the  void.  He 
thought  much  of  the  principles  of  his  art,  and  embodied 
his  conclusions  in  critical  dissertations  and  studies  of  his 
own  works.  He  accepted  the  rule  of  the  unities  of  place 
and  time  (of  which  at  first  he  was  ignorant)  as  far  as  his 
themes  permitted,  as  far  as  the  rules  served  to  concen- 
trate action  and  secure  verisimilitude.  His  mastery  in 
verse  of  a  masculine  eloquence  is  unsurpassed ;  his 
dialogue  of  rapid  statement  and  swift  reply  is  like  a 
combat  with  Roman  short  swords  ;  in  memorable  single 
lines  he  explodes,  as  it  were,  a  vast  charge  of  latent 
energy,  and  effects  a  clearance  for  the  progress  of  his 
action.  His  faults,  like  his  virtues,  are  great  ;  and 
though  faults  and  virtues  may  be  travestied,  both  are 
in  reality  alike  inimitable. 

Alone  among  Corneille's  dramatic  rivals,  if  they  de- 
serve that  name — Du  Ryer,  Tristan,  Scudery,  Boisrobert, 
and  others — JEAN  ROTROU  (1609-50)  had  the  magna- 
nimity to  render  homage  to  the  master  of  his  art. 
While  still  a  boy  he  read  Sophocles,  and  resolved  that 
he  would  live  for  the  dramatic  art.  His  facility  was 
great,  and  he  had  the  faults  of  a  facile  writer,  who  started 
on  his  career  at  the  age  of  nineteen.  He  could  not 
easily  submit  to  the  regulation  of  the  classical  drama,  and 
squandered  his  talents  in  extravagant  tragi- comedies; 
but  his  work  grew  sounder  and  stronger  towards  the 
close.  Saint  Genest  (1646),  which  is  derived,  but  in  no 
servile  fashion,  from  Lope  de  Vega,  recalls  Polyeucte ; 
an  actor  of  the  time  of  Diocletian,  in  performing  the 
part  of  a  Christian  martyr,  is  penetrated  by  the  heroic 
passion  which  he  represents,  confesses  his  faith,  and 
receives  its  crown  in  martyrdom.  The  tragi-comedy 
Don  Bernard  de  Cabrere  and  the  tragedy  Venceslas  of 


ROTROU:    THOMAS  CORNEILLE  171 

the  following  year  exhibit  the  romantic  and  passionate 
sides  of  Rotrou's  genius.  The  intemperate  yet  noble 
Ladislas  has  rashly  and  in  error  slain  his  brother ;  he 
is  condemned  to  death  by  his  father  Venceslas,  King 
of  Poland,  and  he  accepts  his  doom.  The  situation  is 
such  as  Corneille  might  have  imagined ;  but  Rotrou's 
young  hero  in  the  end  is  pardoned  and  receives  the 
kingdom.  If  their  careless  construction  and  unequal 
style  in  general  forbade  the  dramas  of  Rotrou  to  hold 
the  stage,  they  remained  as  a  store  from  which  greater 
artists  than  he  could  draw  their  material.  His  death 
was  noble  :  the  plague  having  broken  out  at  Dreux,  he 
hastened  frpm  Paris  to  the  stricken  town,  disregarding 
all  affectionate  warnings,  there  to  perform  his  duty  as  a 
magistrate  ;  within  a  few  days  the  inhabitants  followed 
Rotrou's  coffin  to  the  parish  church. 

THOMAS  CORNEILLE,  the  faithful  and  tender  brother 
of  "  le  grand  Corneille,"  and  his  successor  in  the 
Academy,  belongs  to  a  younger  generation.  He  was 
born  in  1625,  and  did  not  die  until  near  the  close 
of  the  first  decade  of  the  eighteenth  century.  As 
an  industrious  playwright  he  imitated  his  brother's 
manner,  and  reproduced  his  situations  with  a  feebler 
hand.  Many  of  his  dramas  are  of  Spanish  origin, 
comic  imbroglios,  tragic  extravagances  ;  they  rather 
diverted  dramatic  art  from  its  true  way  than  aided  its 
advance.  Perhaps  for  this  reason  they  were  the  more 
popular.  His  Timocrate  (1656),  drawn  from  the  romance 
of  Cleopdtre,  and  itself  a  romance  written  for  the  stage, 
had  a  success  rarely  equalled  during  the  century.  The 
hero  is  at  once  the  enemy  and  the  lover  of  the  Queen 
of  Argos ;  under  one  name  he  besieges  her,  under 
another  he  repels  his  own  attack ;  he  is  hated  and 


i;2  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

adored,  the  conquered  and  the  conqueror.  The  lan- 
guors of  conventional  love  and  the  plaintive  accents 
of  conventional  grief  suited  the  powers  of  the  younger 
Corneille.  His  Ariane  (1672)  presents  a  heroine, 
Ariadne,  abandoned  by  Theseus,  who  reminds  us  of 
one  of  Racine's  women,  drawn  with  less  certain  lines 
and  fainter  colours.  In  Le  Comte  d  Essex  history  is 
transformed  to  a  romance.  Perhaps  the  greatest  glory 
of  Thomas  Corneille  is  that  his  reception  as  an  Acade- 
mician became  the  occasion  for  a  just  and  eloquent 
tribute  to  the  genius  of  his  brother  uttered  by  Racirie, 
when  the  bitterness  of  rivalry  was  forgotten  and  the 
offences  of  Racine's  earlier  years  were  nobly  repaired. 


CHAPTER    IV 

SOCIETY  AND  PUBLIC  LIFE  IN  LETTERS 

BEFORE  noticing  the  theories  of  classical  poetry  in  the 
writings  of  its  master  critic,  Boileau,  we  must  glance  at 
certain  writers  who  belonged  rather  to  the  world  of 
public  life  and  of  society  than  to  the  world  of  art,  but 
who  became  each  a  master  in  literary  craft,  as  it  were, 
by  an  irresistible  instinct.  Memoirs,  maxims,  epistolary 
correspondence,  the  novel,  in  their  hands  took  a  dis- 
tinguished place  in  the  hierarchy  of  literary  art. 

FRANCOIS  VI.,  Due  DE  LA  ROCHEFOUCAULD,  Prince 
de  Marsillac,  was  born  in  1613,  of  one  of  the  greatest 
families  of  France.  His  life  is  divided  into  two  periods 
— one  of  passionate  activity,  when  with  romantic 
ardour  he  threw  himself  into  the  struggles  of  the 
Fronde,  only  to  be  foiled  and  disillusioned ;  and  the 
other  of  bitter  reflection,  consoled  by  certain  social 
successes,  loyal  friendships,  and  an  unique  literary 
distinction.  His  Maximes  are  the  brief  confession  of 
his  experience  of  life,  an  utterance  of  the  pessimism 
of  an  aristocratic  spirit,  moulded  into  a  form  proper 
to  the  little  world  of  the  salon — each  maxim  a  drop 
of  the  attar  not  of  roses  but  of  some  more  poignant  and 
bitterly  aromatic  blossom.  In  the  circle  of  Mme.  de 
Sable,  now  an  elderly  pre'cieuse,  a  circle  half-Epicurean, 

half-Jansenist,  frivolously  serious  and  morosely  gay,  the 

173 


174  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

composition  of  maxims  and  "sentences"  became  a 
fashion.  Those  of  La  Rochefoucauld  were  submitted 
to  her  as  to  an  oracle  ;  five  years  were  given  to  shaping 
a  tiny  volume  ;  fifteen  years  to  rehandling  and  polishing 
every  phrase.  They  are  like  a  collection  of  medals  struck 
in  honour  of  the  conquests  of  cynicism.  The  first  sur- 
reptitious edition,  printed  in  Holland  in  1664,  was 
followed  by  an  authorised  edition  in  1665  ;  the  number 
of  maxims,  at  first  317,  rose  finally  in  1678  to  504 ;  some 
were  omitted  ;  many  were  reduced  to  the  extreme  of 
concision  ;  under  the  influence  of  Mme.  de  la  Fayette, 
in  the  later  texts  the  indictment  of  humanity  was  slightly 
attenuated.  "  II  m'a  donne  de  1' esprit,"  said  Mme.  de  la 
Fayette,  "mais  j'ai  reforme  son  coeur." 

The  motto  of  the  book,  "Our  virtues  are  commonly 
vices  in  disguise,"  expresses  its  central  idea.  La  Roche- 
foucauld does  not  absolutely  deny  disinterested  good- 
ness ;  there  may  be  some  such  instinctive  virtue  lying 
below  all  passions  which  submit  to  be  analysed  ;  he  does 
not  consider  the  love  of  God,  the  parental  or  the  filial 
affections  ;  but  wherever  he  applies  analysis,  it  is  to 
reduce  each  apparently  disinterested  feeling  to  self-love. 
"We  all  have  strength  enough  to  endure  the  misfortunes 
of  another  ;  "  "  When  vices  desert  us,  we  flatter  ourselves 
with  the  belief  that  it  is  we  who  desert  them;"  "With 
true  love  it  is  as  with  apparitions — every  one  talks  of 
them,  but  few  persons  have  seen  them ; "  "  Virtues  lose 
themselves  in  self-interest  as  rivers  lose  themselves  in 
the  sea  ; "  "  In  the  adversity  of  our  best  friends  we  always 
find  something  which  does  not  displease  us  " — such  are 
the  moral  comments  on  life  graven  in  ineffaceable  lines 
by  La  Rochefoucauld.  He  is  not  a  philosophic  thinker, 
but  he  is  a  penetrating  and  remorseless  critic,  who  re- 


LA  ROCHEFOUCAULD  175 

mains  at  one  fixed  point  of  view;  self-interest  is  assuredly 
a  large  factor  in  human  conduct,  and  he  exposes  much 
that  is  real  in  the  heart  of  man  ;  much  also  that  is  not 
universally  true  was  true  of  the  world  in  which  he  had 
moved ;  whether  we  accept  or  reject  his  doctrine,  we  are 
instructed  by  a  statement  so  implacable  and  so  precise 
of  the  case  against  human  nature  as  he  saw  it.  Pitiless 
he  was  not  himself ;  perhaps  his  artistic  instinct  led  him 
to  exclude  concessions  which  would  have  marred  the 
unity  of  his  conception  ;  possibly  his  vanity  co-operated 
in  producing  phrases  which  live  and  circulate  by  virtue 
of  the  shock  they  communicate  to  our  self-esteem.  The 
merit  of  his  Maximes  as  examples  of  style — a  style  which 
may  be  described  as  lapidary — is  incomparable;  it  is 
impossible  to  say  more,  or  to  say  it  more  adequately, 
in  little  ;  but  one  wearies  in  the  end  of  the  monotony  of 
an  idea  unalterably  applied,  of  unqualified  brilliance,  of 
unrelieved  concision ;  we  anticipate  our  surprise,  and 
its  purpose  is  defeated.  Traces  of  preciosity  are  found 
in  some  of  the  earliest  sentences;  that  infirmity  was 
soon  overcome  by  La  Rochefoucauld,  and  his  utterances 
become  as  clear  and  as  hard  as  diamond. 

He  died  at  the  age  of  sixty-seven,  in  the  arms  of 
Bossuet.  His  MemoiresJ-  relating  to  the  period  of 
the  Fronde,  are  written  with  an  air  of  studied  histori- 
cal coldness,  which  presents  a  striking  contrast  to  the 
brilliant  vivacity  of  Retz. 

The  most  interesting  figure  of  the  Fronde,  its  portrait- 
painter,  its  analyst,  its  historian,  is  CARDINAL  DE  RETZ 
(1614-1679).  Italian  by  his  family,  and  Italian  in  some 
features  of  his  character,  he  had,  on  a  scale  of  grandeur, 
the  very  genius  of  conspiracy.  When  his  first  work, 

1  Ed.  1662,  surreptitious  and  incomplete  ;  best  ed.   1817. 


1 76  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

La  Conjuration  de  Ftesque,  was  read  by  Richelieu,  the 
judgment  which  that  great  statesman  pronounced  was 
penetrating  —  "  Voila  un  dangereux  esprit."  Low  of 
stature,  ugly,  ill-made,  short-sighted,  Retz  played  the 
part  of  a  gallant  and  a  duellist.  Never  had  any  one 
less  vocation  for  the  spiritual  duties  of  an  ecclesiastic ; 
but,  being  a  churchman,  he  would  be  an  illustrious 
actor  on  the  ecclesiastical  stage.  There  was  something 
demoniac  in  his  audacity,  and  with  the  spirit  of  tur- 
bulence and  intrigue  was  united  a  certain  power  of 
self-restraint.  When  fallen,  he  still  tried  to  be  mag- 
nificent, though  in  disgrace  :  he  would  resign  his  arch- 
bishopric, pay  his  enormous  debts,  resign  his  cardinalate, 
exhibit  himself  as  the  hero  in  misfortune.  "Having  lived 
as  a  Catiline,"  said  Voltaire,  "he  lived  as  an  Atticus." 
In  retirement,  as  his  adventurous  life  drew  towards  its 
close,  he  wrote,  at  the  request  of  Madame  de  Caumartin, 
those  Memoirs  which  remained  unpublished  until  1717, 
and  which  have  insured  him  a  place  in  literature  only 
second  to  Saint-Simon. 

It  was  an  age  remarkable  for  its  memoirs  ;  those 
of  Mdlle.  de  Montpensier,  of  Mrne.  de  Motteville,  of 
Bussy-Rabutin  are  only  a  few  of  many.  The  Memoires 
of  Retz  far  surpass  the  rest  not  only  in  their  historical 
interest,  but  in  their  literary  excellence.  Arranging 
facts  and  dates  so  that  he  might  superbly  figure  in  the 
drama  designed  for  future  generations,  he  falsifies  the 
literal  truth  of  things ;  but  he  lays  bare  the  inner  truth 
of  politics,  of  life,  of  character,  with  incomparable  mas- 
tery. He  exposes  the  disorder  of  his  conduct  in  early 
years  with  little  scruple.  The  origins  of  the  Fronde 
are  expounded  in  pages  of  profound  sagacity.  His 
narrative  has  all  the  impetuosity,  all  the  warmth  and 


RETZ:    MME.   DE  SE*VIGNE  177 

hues  of  life,  all  the  tumult  and  rumour  of  action  ;  he 
paints,  but  in  painting  he  explains  ;  he  touches  the 
hidden  springs  of  passion  ;  his  portraits  of  contem- 
poraries are  not  more  vivid  in  their  colours  than  they 
are  searching  in  their  psychology  :  and  in  his  style 
there  is  that  negligent  grandeur  which  belongs  rather 
to  the  days  of  Louis  XIII.  than  to  the  age  of  his 
successor,  when  language  grew  more  exact  for  the 
intelligence,  but  lost  much  of  its  passion  and  untamed 
energy. 

The  epistolary  art,  in  which  the  art  itself  is  nature, 
may  be  said  to  have  reached  perfection,  with  scarcely 
an  historical  development,  in  the  letters  of  MME.  DE 
SEVIGNE.  The  letters  of  Balzac  are  rhetorical  exer- 
cises ;  those  of  Voiture  are  often,  to  use  a  word  of 
Shakespeare,  "heavy  lightness,  serious  vanity."  Mme. 
de  Sevigne  entered  into  the  gains  of  a  cultivated  society, 
in  which  graceful  converse  had  become  a  necessity  of 
existence.  She  wrote  delightfully,  because  she  con- 
veyed herself  into  her  letters,  and  because  she  con- 
versed freely  and  naturally  by  means  of  her  pen.  Marie 
de  Rabutin  -  Chantal,  born  in  1626,  deprived  of  both 
parents  in  her  earliest  years,  was  carefully  trained  in 
literary  studies  —  Latin,  Italian,  French  — •  under  the 
superintendence  of  her  uncle,  "le  bien  bon,"  the  Abbe 
de  Coulanges.  Among  her  teachers  were  the  scholar 
Menage  and  the  poet  Chapelain.  Married  at  eighteen 
to  an  unworthy  husband,  the  Marquis  Henri  de  Sevigne, 
she  was  left  at  twenty-five  a  widow  with  two  children, 
the  daughter  whom  she  loved  with  excess  of  devotion, 
and  a  son,  who  received  from  his  mother  a  calmer 
affection.  She  saw  the  life  of  the  court,  she  was 
acquainted  with  eminent  writers,  she  frequented  the 


FRENCH   LITERATURE 

Hotel  dc  Rambouillet  (retaining  from  it  a  touch  of 
preciosity,  "one  superfluous  ribbon,"  says  Nisard,  "in 
a  simple  and  elegant  toilet"),  she  knew  and  loved  the 
country  and  its  rural  joys,  she  read  with  excellent 
judgment  and  eager  delight  the  great  books  of  past 
and  present  times. 

When  her  daughter,  "  the  prettiest  girl  in  France,"  was 
married  in  1669  to  M.  de  Grignan,  soon  to  be  Lieutenant- 
General  of  Provence,  Mme.  de  Sevigne,  desiring  to  be 
constantly  one  with  her,  at  least  in  thought,  transferred 
into  letters  her  whole  life  from  day  to  day,  together 
with  much  of  the  social  life  of  the  time  during  a 
period  of  nearly  thirty  years.  She  allowed  her  pen 
to  trot,  throwing  the  reins,  as  she  says,  upon  its  neck ; 
but  if  her  letters  are  improvisations,  they  are  impro- 
visations regulated  by  an  exquisite  artistic  instinct.  Her 
imagination  is  alert  in  discovering,  combining,  and  pre- 
senting the  happiest  meanings  of  reality.  She  is  gay, 
witty,  ironical,  malicious,  and  all  this  without  a  trace 
of  malignity ;  amiable  rather  than  passionate,  .except 
in  the  ardour  of  her  maternal  devotion,  which  some- 
times proved  oppressive  to  a  daughter  wrho,  though 
not  unloving,  loved  with  a  temperate  heart ;  faithful  to 
friends,  loyal  to  those  who  had  fallen  into  misfortune, 
but  neither  sentimental  nor  romantic,  nor  disposed  to 
the  generosities  of  a  universal  humanity ;  a  woman  of 
spirit,  energy,  and  good  sense  ;  capable  of  serious  re- 
flection, though  not  of  profound  thought ;  endowed 
with  an  exquisite  sense  of  the  power  of  words,  and, 
indeed,  the  creator  of  a  literary  style.  While  her  interests 
were  in  the  main  of  a  mundane  kind,  she  was  in  sympathy 
with  Port-Royal ;  admired  the  writings  of  Pascal,  and 
deeply  reverenced  Nicole.  Domestic  affairs,  business 


MME.   DE  MAINTENON  179 

(concern  for  her  children  having  involved  her  in  finan- 
cial troubles),  the  aristocratic  life  of  Paris  and  Versailles, 
literature,  the  pleasures  and  tedium  of  the  country,  the 
dulness  or  gaiety  of  a  health-resort,  the  rise  and  fall 
of  those  in  power,  the  petty  intrigues  and  spites  and 
follies  of  the  day — these,  and  much  besides,  enter  into 
Mme.  de  Sevigne's  records,  records  made  upon  the 
moment,  with  all  the  animation  of  an  immediate  im- 
pression, but  remaining  with  us  as  one  of  the  chief 
documents  for  the  social  history  of  the  second  half  of 
the  seventeenth  century.  In  April  1696  Mme.  de 
Sevigne  died. 

Beside  the  letters  addressed  to  her  daughter  are 
others — far  fewer  in.  number — to  her  cousin  Bussy- 
Rabutin,  to  her  cousin  Mme.  de  Coulanges,  to  Pom- 
ponne,  and  other  correspondents.  In  Bussy's  Memoires 
et  Correspondence  (1696-97)  first  appeared  certain  of  her 
letters ;  a  collection,  very  defective  and  inaccurate,  was 
published  in  1726 ;  eight  years  later  the  first  portion  of 
an  authorised  text  was  issued  under  the  sanction  of  the 
writer's  grand-daughter ;  gradually  the  material  was  re- 
covered, until  it  became  of  vast  extent;  even  since 
the  appearance  of  the  edition  among  the  Grands  £cri- 
vains  de  la  France  two  volumes  of  Lettres  inedites  have 
been  published. 

Among  the  other  letter-writers  of  the  period,  perhaps 
the  most  distinguished  were  Mme.  de  Sevigne's  old  and 
attached  friend  Mme.  de  la  Fayette,  and  the  woman  of 
supreme  authority  with  the  King,  Mme.  de  Maintenon. 
A  just  view  of  Mme.  de  Maintenon's  character  has 
been  long  obscured  by  the  letters  forged  under  her 
name  by  La  Beaumelle,  and  by  the  bitter  hostility 
of  Saint-Simon.  On  a  basis  of  ardour  and  sensibility 


i8o  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

she  built  up  a  character  of  unalterable  reason  and  good 
sense.  Her  letters  are  not  creations  of  genius,  unless 
practical  wisdom  and  integrity  of  purpose  be  forms 
of  genius.  She  does  not  gossip  delightfully  ;  at  times 
she  may  seem  a  little  hard  or  dry ;  but  her  reason  is 
really  guided  by  human  kindness.  "  Her  style/'  wrote 
a  high  authority,  Dollinger,  "is  clear,  terse,  refined, 
often  sententious ;  her  business  letters  are  patterns  of 
simplicity  and  pregnant  brevity.  They  might  be  char- 
acterised as  womanly  yet  manly,  so  well  do  they  com- 
bine the  warmth  and  depth  of  womanly  feeling  with 
the  strength  and  lucidity  of  a  masculine  mind."  The 
foundation  of  Saint-Cyr,  for  the  education  of  girls  well- 
born but  poor,  was  the  object  of  her  constant  solici- 
tude ;  there  she  put  out  her  talents  as  a  teacher  and 
guide  of  youth  to  the  best  interest ;  there  she  found 
play  for  her  best  affections  :  "  C'est  le  lieu,"  she  said, 
"de  delices  pour  moi.'"' 

The  friend  of  Madame  de  Sevigne,  the  truest  woman 
whom  La  Rochefoucauld  had  ever  known,  MADAME  DE 
LA  FAYETTE  was  the  author  of  two  historical  works, 
of  which  one  is  exquisite — a  memorial  of  her  friend 
the  Duchess  of  Orleans,  and  of  two — perhaps  three — 
romances,  the  latest  of  which,  in  the  order  of  chronology, 
is  the  masterpiece  of  seventeenth-century  fiction.  Marie 
de  la  Vergne,  born  in  1634,  a  pupil  of  Menage,  married 
at  twenty-one  to  M.  de  la  Fayette,  became  the  trusted 
companion  of  the  bright  and  gracious  Henrietta  of 
England.  It  is  not  that  part  of  Madame's  life,  when 
she  acted  as  intermediary  between  Louis  XIV.  and  her 
brother,  Charles  II.,  that  is  recorded  by  her  friend  :  it 
is  the  history  of  her  heart.  Nothing  is  more  touching 
in  its  simplicity  than  the  narrative  of  Madame's  last 


MME.   DE  LA  FAYETTE  181 

moments ;  it  serves  as  the  best  possible  comment  on 
the  pathetic  Funeral  Oration  of  Bossuet.  We  have  no 
grounds  for  asserting  that  the  married  life  of  Madame  de 
la  Fayette  was  unhappy,  except  through  the  inadequacy 
of  a  husband  whose  best  qualities  seem  to  have  been  of 
a  negative  kind.  During  the  fifteen  years  which  preceded 
the  death  of  La  Rochefoucauld  her  friendship  for  him 
was  the  centre  of  her  existence.  She  seemed  to  bear 
about  with  her  some  secret  grief  ;  something  remained 
veiled  from  other  friends  than  he,  and  they  named 
her  le  Brouillard.  She  outlived  her  friend  by  thirteen 
years,  and  during  ten  was  widowed.  In  1693  she  died. 

Her  earliest  novel,  La  Princesse  de  Montpensier  (1662), 
a  tale  of  the  days  of  the  Valois  and  of  St.  Bartholomew, 
is  remarkable  for  its  truthful  pictures  of  the  manners 
of  the  court,  its  rendering  of  natural  and  unexaggerated 
feeling,  and  for  the  fact  that  it  treats  of  married  life, 
occupying  itself  with  such  themes  as  have  been  dealt  with 
in  many  of  its  modern  successors.  The  Zayde,  of  eight 
years  later,  was  written  in  collaboration  with  Segrais. 
It  is  in  La  Princesse  de  Cleves  (1678)  that  the  genius  and 
the  heart  of  Madame  de  la  Fayette  find  a  perfect  expres- 
sion. The  Princess,  married  to  a  husband  who  loves 
her  devotedly,  and  whom  she  honours,  but  whose  feel- 
ings she  cannot  return,  is  tempted  by  the  brilliant  Due 
de  Nemours  and  by  the  weakness  of  her  own  passion, 
to  infidelity.  She  resolves  to  confide  her  struggle  to  her 
husband,  and  seek  in  him  a  protector  against  herself. 
The  hard  confession  is  made,  but  a  grievous  and  in- 
evitable change  has  passed  over  their  lives.  Believing 
himself  deceived,  M.  de  Cleves  is  seized  by  a  fever 
and  dies,  not  without  the  consolation  of  learning  his 
error.  Nemours  renews  his  vows  and  entreaties;  the 


1 82  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

Princess  refuses  his  hand,  and  atones  for  her  error 
in  cloistered  seclusion.  The  tale  has  lost  none  of  its 
beauty  and  pathos  after  a  lapse  of  two  centuries.  Does 
it  reveal  the  hidden  grief  of  the  writer's  life  ?  And  was 
her  friend,  the  Due  de  la  Rochefoucauld,  delivered  from 
his  gout  and  more  than  a  score  of  years,  transformed 
by  Madame  de  la  Fayette  into  the  foiled  lover  of  her 
tale? 


CHAPTER   V 

BOILEAU  AND  LA  FONTAINE 

THE  great  name  in  criticism  of  the  second  half  of  the 
seventeenth  century  is  that  of  Boileau.  But  one  of 
whom  Boileau  spoke  harshly,  a  soldier,  a  man  of  the 
world,  the  friend  of  Ninon  de  1'Enclos,  a  sceptical  Epicu- 
rean, an  amateur  in  letters,  Saint-Evremond  (1613-1703), 
among  his  various  writings,  aided  the  cause  of  criticism 
by  the  intuition  which  he  had  of  what  is  excellent, 
by  a  fineness  of  judgment  as  far  removed  from  mere 
licence  as  from  the  pedantry  of  rules.  Fallen  into 
disfavour  with  the  King,  Saint-Evremond  was  received 
into  the  literary  society  of  London.  His  criticism  is 
that  of  a  fastidious  taste,  of  balance  and  moderation, 
guided  by  tradition,  yet  open  to  new  views  if  they 
approved  themselves  to  his  culture  and  good  sense. 
Had  his  studies  been  more  serious,  had  his  feelings 
been  more  generous  and  ardent,  had  his  moral  sense 
been  less  shallow,  he  might  have  made  important  con- 
tributions to  literature.  As  it  was,  to  be  a  man  of  the 
world  was  his  trade,  to  be  a  writer  was  only  an  admir- 
able foible. 

NICOLAS   BOILEAU,   named   DESPREAUX,  from  a  field 

(pre]  of  his  father's  property  at  Crosne,  was  born  in  Paris, 

1636,   son   of   the   registrar   of   the  Grand'Chambre  du 

Palais.      His   choice    of   a  profession   lay   between   the 

13  l8* 


1 84  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

Church  and  that  with  which  his  father  was  connected 
— the  law ;  but  though  he  made  some  study  of  theology, 
and  was  called  to  the  bar,  his  inclination  for  literature 
could  not  be  resisted.  His  whole  life,  indeed,  was  that 
of  a  man  of  letters — upright,  honourable,  serious,  digni- 
fied, simple  ;  generous  to  the  friends  whose  genius  he 
could  justly  applaud  ;  merciless  to  books  and  authors 
condemned  by  his  reason,  his  good  sense,  his  excellent 
judgment.  He  was  allied  by  an  ardent  admiration  to 
Racine,  and  less  intimately  to  Moliere,  La  Fontaine,  and 
Chapelle ;  Jansenist  through  his  religious  sympathies, 
and  closely  attached  to  the  venerable  Arnauld;  appointed 
historiographer  to  the  King  (1677)  together  with  Racine; 
an  Academician  by  the  King's  desire,  notwithstanding 
the  opposition  of  his  literary  enemies.  In  his  elder 
years  his  great  position  of  authority  in  the  world  of 
letters  was  assured,  but  he  suffered  from  infirmities  of 
body,  and  from  an  increasing  severity  of  temper.  In 
1711  he  died,  bequeathing  a  large  sum  of  money  to  the 
poor. 

Boileau's  literary  career  falls  into  three  periods — the 
first,  militant  and  destructive,  in  which  he  waged  suc- 
cessful war  against  all  that  seemed  to  him  false  and 
despicable  in  art ;  the  second,  reconstructive,  in  which 
he  declared  the  doctrine  of  what  may  be  termed  literary 
rationalism,  and  legislated  for  the  French  Parnassus ; 
the  third,  dating  from  his  appointment  as  historiogra- 
pher, a  period  of  comparative  repose  and,  to  some 
extent,  of  decline,  but  one  in  which  the  principles  of 
his  literary  faith  were  maintained  and  pressed  to  new 
conclusions.  His  writings  include  twelve  satires  (of 
which  the  ninth,  "A  son  Esprit,"  is  the  chief  master- 
piece) ;  twelve  epistles  (that  to  Racine  being  pre- 


BOILEAU  AS  POET  185 

eminent);  the  literary -didactic  poem,  L'Art  Po/tique  ; 
a  heroi-comical  epic,  Le  Lutrin ;  miscellaneous  shorter 
poems  (among  which  may  be  noted  the  admirable 
epitaph  on  Arnauld,  and  an  unhappy  ode,  Sur  la  Prise 
de  Namur,  1693)  ;  and  various  critical  studies  in  prose, 
his  Lucianic  dialogue  Les  Heros  de  Roman,  satirising 
the  extravagant  novels  not  yet  dismissed  to  oblivion, 
and  his  somewhat  truculent  Reflexions  sur  Longin  being 
specially  deserving  of  attention.  The  satires  preceded 
in  date  the  epistles ;  of  the  former,  the  first  nine  belong 
to  the  years  1660-67  5  ^ne  nrs*  mne  °f  the  epistles  to 
the  years  1669-77  >  three  satires  and  three  epistles  may 
be  described  as  belated.  The  year  1674  is  memorable 
as  that  in  which  were  published  L'Art  Poetique  and 
the  first  four  chants  of  Le  Lutrin. 

The  genius  of  Boileau  was  in  a  high  degree  intel- 
lectual, animated  by  ideas ;  but  it  is  an  error  to  suppose 
that  a  sensuous  element  is  absent  from  his  verse.  It 
is  verse  of  the  classical  school,  firm  and  clear,  but  it 
addresses  the  ear  with  a  studied  harmony,  and  what 
Boileau  saw  he  could  render  into  exact,  definite,  and 
vivid  expression.  His  imagination  was  not  in  a  large 
sense  creative  ;  he  was  wholly  lacking  in  tenderness  and 
sensibility  ;  his  feeling  for  external  nature  was  no  more 
than  that  of  a  Parisian  bourgeois  who  enjoys  for  a  day 
the  repose  of  the  fields ;  but  for  Paris  itself,  its  various 
aspects,  its  life,  its  types,  its  manners,  he  had  the  eye 
and  the  precise  rendering  of  a  realist  in  art ;  his  faithful 
objective  touch  is  like  that  of  a  Dutch  painter.  As  a 
moralist,  he  is  not  searching  or  profound  ;  he  saw  too 
little  of  the  inner  world  of  the  heart,  and  knew  too  im- 
perfectly its  agitations.  When,  however,  he  deals  with 
literature — and  a  just  judgment  in  letters  may  almost  be 


1 86  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

called  an  element  in  morals — all  his  penetration  and 
power  become  apparent. 

To  clear  the  ground  for  the  new  school  of  nature, 
truth  and  reason  was  Boileau's  first  task.  It  was  a 
task  which  called  for  courage  and  skill.  The  public 
taste  was  still  uncertain.  Laboured  and  lifeless  epics 
like  Chapelain's  La  Pucelle,  petty  ingenuities  in  metre 
like  those  of  Cotin,  violence  and  over-emphasis,  ex- 
travagances of  sentiment,  faded  preciosities,  inane 
pastoralisms,  gross  or  vulgar  burlesques,  tragedies 
languorous  and  insipid,  lyrics  of  pretended  passion, 
affectations  from  the  degenerate  Italian  literature,  super- 
subtleties  from  Spain  —  these  had  still  their  votaries. 
And  the  conduct  of  life  and  characters  of  men  of 
letters  were  often  unworthy  of  the  vocation  they  pro- 
fessed. "La  haine  d'un  sot  livre"  was  an  inspiration  for 
Boileau,  as  it  afterwards  was  for  our  English  satirist 
Pope ;  and  he  felt  deeply  that  dignity  of  art  is  connected 
with  dignity  of  character  and  rectitude  of  life — "  Le  vers 
se  senttoujours  des  bassesses  de  cceur."  He  struck  at  the 
follies  and  affectations  of  the  world  of  letters,  and  he 
struck  with  force  :  it  was  a  needful  duty,  and  one  most 
effectively  performed.  Certain  of  the  Epistles,  which 
are  written  with  less  pitiless  severity  and  with  a  more 
accomplished  mastery  of  verse,  continue  the  work  of  the 
Satires.  From  Horace  he  derived  much,  something 
from  Juvenal,  and  something  from  his  predecessor  Reg- 
nier ;  but  he  had  not  the  lightness  nor  the  bonhomie  of 
Horace,  nor  his  easy  and  amiable  wisdom. 

In  the  Art  Poetique  Boileau  is  constructive  ;  he  exhibits 
the  true  doctrine  of  literature,  as  he  conceived  it.  Granted 
genius,  fire,  imagination — the  gifts  of  heaven — what  should 
be  the  self-imposed  discipline  of  a  poet  ?  Above  all, 


BOILEAU  AS  CRITIC  187 

the  cultivation  of  that  power  which  distinguishes  false 
from  true,  and  aids  every  other  faculty — the  reason. 
"  Nothing,"  declares  Boileau,  "  is  beautiful  save  what  is 
true ;  "  nature  is  the  model,  the  aim  and  end  of  art ; 
reason  and  good  sense  discern  reality ;  they  test  the 
fidelity  of  the  artistic  imitation  of  nature  ;  they  alone 
can  vouch  for  the  correspondence  of  the  idea  with 
its  object,  and  the  adequacy  of  the  expression  to  the 
idea.  What  is  permanent  and  universal  in  litera- 
ture lives  by  the  aid  of  no  fashion  of  the  day,  but  by 
virtue  of  its  truth  to  nature.  And  hence  is  derived 
the  authority  of  the  ancient  classics,  which  have  been 
tried  by  time  and  have  endured ;  these  we  do  not 
accept  as  tyrants,  but  we  may  safely  follow  as  guides. 
To  study  nature  is,  however,  before  all  else  to  study 
man  —  that  is,  human  nature  —  and  to  distinguish  in 
human  nature  what  is  universal  and  abiding  from  what 
is  transitory  and  accidental ;  we  cannot  be  expected  to 
discover  things  absolutely  new ;  it  suffices  to  give  to 
what  is  true  a  perfect  expression.  Unhappily,  human 
nature,  as  understood  by  Boileau,  included  little  beyond 
the  court  and  the  town.  Unhappily  his  appreciation  of 
classical  literature  was  defective ;  to  justify  as  true  and 
natural  the  mythology  of  Greece  he  has  to  regard  it  as 
a  body  of  symbols  or  a  moral  allegory.  Unhappily  his 
survey  of  literature  was  too  narrow  to  include  the  truths 
and  the  splendours  of  Mediaeval  poetry  and  art.  For 
historical  truth,  indeed,  he  had  little  sense  ;  seeking  for 
what  is  permanent  and  universal,  he  had  little  regard 
for  local  colour  and  the  truth  of  manners.  To  secure 
assent  from  contemporary  minds  truth  must  assume 
what  they  take  to  be  its  image,  and  a  Greek  or  Roman 
on  the  stage  must  not  shock  the  demand  for  verisimili- 


1 88  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

hide  made  by  the  courtly  imagination  of  the  days  of 
Louis  Quatorze.  Art  which  fails  to  please  is  no  longer 
art. 

To  the  workmanship,  the  technique  of  poetry,  Boileau 
attaches  a  high  importance.  Its  several  species — idyl, 
elegy,  ode,  sonnet,  epigram,  rondeau,  ballade,  madrigal, 
satire,  epic,  tragedy,  comedy — are  separated  from  one 
another  by  fixed  boundaries,  and  each  is  subject  to  its 
own  rules  ;  but  genius,  on  occasion,  may  transcend  those 
rules,  and  snatch  an  unauthorised  grace.  It  is  difficult 
to  understand  why  from  among  the  genres  of  poetry 
Boileau  omitted  the  fable  ;  perhaps  he  did  not  regard 
its  form,  now  in  verse  and  now  in  prose,  as  denned ; 
possibly  he  was  insensible  of  the  perfection  to  which 
the  fable  in  verse  had  been  carried  by  La  Fontaine. 
The  fourth  chant  of  the  Art  Poetique  is  remarkable  for 
its  lofty  conception  of  the  position  of  the  poet ;  its 
counsels  express  the  dignity  of  the  writer's  own  literary 
life.  He  has  been  charged  not  only  with  cruelty  as  a 
satirist,  but  with  the  baseness  of  a  flatterer  of  the  great. 
It  would  be  more  just  to  notice  the  honourable  in- 
dependence which  he  maintained,  notwithstanding  his 
poetical  homage  to  the  King,  which'  was  an  inevitable 
requisition.  Boileau's  influence  as  a  critic  of  literature 
can  hardly  be  overrated  ;  it  has  much  in  common  with 
the  influence  of  Pope  on  English  literature — beneficial 
as  regards  his  own  time,  somewhat  restrictive  and  even 
tyrannical  upon  later  generations. 

Le  Lutrin  (completed  in  1683)  is  not  a  burlesque 
which  degrades  a  noble  theme,  but,  like  Pope's  far 
more  admirable  Rape  of  the  Lock,  a  heroi-comic  poem 
humorously  exalting  humble  matter  of  the  day.  It  tells 
of  the  combats  of  ecclesiastics  respecting  the  position 


LA  FONTAINE  189 

of  a  lectern,  combats  in  which  the  books  of  a  neigh- 
bouring publisher  serve  as  formidable  projectiles.  The 
scene  is  in  the  Sainte-Chapelle  and  the  Palais  de  Justice. 
Boileau's  gift  for  the  vivid  presentation  of  visible  detail, 
and  his  skill  in  versification,  served  him  here  better  than 
did  his  choice  of  a  subject.  On  the  whole,  we  think  of 
him  less  as  a  poet  than  as  the  classical  guardian  and 
legislator  of  poetry.  He  was  an  emancipator  by  direct- 
ing art  towards  reason  and  truth  ;  when  larger  inter- 
pretations of  truth  and  reason  than  his  became  possible, 
his  influence  acted  unfavourably  as  a  constraint. 

All  that  Boileau  lacked  as  a  poet  was  possessed  by 
the  most  easy  and  natural  of  the  singers  of  his  time — 
one  whose  art  is  like  nature  in  its  freedom,  while  yet 
it  never  wrongs  the  delicate  bounds  of  art.  JEAN  DE 
LA  FONTAINE  was  born  in  1621  at  Chateau-Thierry,  in 
Champagne,  son  of  the  "  maitre  des  eaux  et  forets." 
His  education  was  less  of  a  scholastic  kind  than  an 
education  derived  from  books  read  for  his  own  plea- 
sure, and  especially  from  observation  or  reverie  among 
the  woods  and  fields,  with  their  population  of  bird,  beast, 
and  insect,  so  dear  to  his  heart  and  his  imagination.  Slip- 
ping away  from  theology  and  law,  he  passed  ten  years, 
from  twenty-three  to  thirty-three,  in  seeming  indolence,  a 
"bon  garden,"  irreclaimably  wayward  as  regards  worldly 
affairs,  but  already  drawing  in  to  himself  all  that  fed  his 
genius,  all  sights  and  sounds  of  nature,  all  the  lore  of 
old  poets,  story-tellers,  translators,  and  already  practising 
his  art  of  verse.  Nothing  that  was  not  natural  to  him, 
and  wholly  to  his  liking,  would  he  or  could  he  do  ;  but 
happily  he  was  born  to  write  perfect  verses,  and  the 
labour  of  the  artist  was  with  him  an  instinct  and  a 
delight.  He  allowed  himself  to  be  married  to  a  pretty 


1 9o  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

girl  of  fifteen,  and  presently  forgot  that  he  had  a  wife 
and  child,  drifted  away,  and  agreed  in  1659  to  a  divi- 
sion of  goods  ;  but  his  carelessness  and  egoism  were 
without  a  touch  of  malignity,  those  of  an  overgrown  child 
rather  than  of  a  man. 

In  1654  he  published  a  translation  of  the  Eunuch  of 
Terence  of  small  worth,  and  not  long  after  was  favoured 
with  the  patronage  of  Fouquet,  the  superintendant  of 
finance.  To  him  La  Fontaine  presented  his  Adonis,  a 
narrative  poem,  graceful,  picturesque,  harmonious,  ex- 
pressing a  delicate  feeling  for  external  nature  rarely  to 
be  found  in  poetry  of  the  time^  and  reviving  some  of 
the  bright  Renaissance  sense  of  antiquity.  The  genius 
of  France  is  united  in  La  Fontaine's  writings  with  the 
genius  of  Greece.  But  the  verses  written  by  command 
for  Fouquet  are  laboured  and  ineffective.  His  ill-con- 
structed and  unfinished  Songe  de  Vaux,  partly  in  prose, 
partly  in  verse,  was  designed  to  celebrate  his  patron's 
Chateau  de  Vaux. 

Far  happier  than  this  is  the  poem  in  dialogue  Clymcne, 
a  dramatic  fantasy,  in  which  Apollo  on  Mount  Parnassus 
learns  by  the  aid  of  the  Muses  the  loves  of  Acante  (La 
Fontaine)  and  Clymene  (Madame  X  .  .  .),  a  rural  beauty, 
whom  the  god  had  seen  wandering  on  the  banks  of 
Hippocrene.  On  the  fall  of  his  magnificent  patron  La 
Fontaine  did  not  desert  him,  pleading  in  his  JiLlcgie  aux 
Nymphes  de  Vaux  on  behalf  of  the  disgraced  minister.  As 
a  consequence,  the  poet  retired  for  a  time  from  Paris  to 
banishment  at  Limoges.  But  in  1664  he  is  again  in 
Paris  or  at  Chateau-Thierry,  his  native  place,  where  the 
Duchesse  de  Bouillon,  niece  of  Mazarin,  young,  gay,  plea- 
sure-loving, bestowed  on  him  a  kind  protection.  His 
tedious  paraphrase  of  Psyche,  and  the  poem  Quinquina, 


LA  FONTAINE'S  CONTES  191 

in  which  he  celebrates  the  recovery  from  illness  of  'the 
Duchess,  were  performances  of  duty  and  gratitude  rather 
than  of  native  impulse ;  but  the  tendencies  of  her  salon, 
restrained  neither  by  the  proprieties  of  the  classical  doc- 
trine in  literature  nor  those  of  religious  strictness,  may 
have  encouraged  him  to  the  production  of  his  Contes. 

In  Paris,  from  1661  to  1664  joyous  meetings  took  place 
in  Boileau's  rooms  in  the  Rue  du  Colombier  of  a  distin- 
guished group,  which  included  Moliere,  Chapelle,  Racine, 
and  La  Fontaine.  La  Fontaine,  the  bonhomme^^Q  escaped 
from  the  toil  of  conversation  which  did  not  interest 
him  in  shy  or  indolent  taciturnity,  could  be  a  charm- 
ing talker  with  companions  of  his  choice.  Probably  to 
Boileau's  urgency  is  due  the  first  original  publication 
of  La  Fontaine,  a  little  volume  of  Nouvelles  en  Vers  (1664- 
1665),  containing  the  Joconde,  a  tale  from  Ariosto,  and  a 
comic  story  versified  from  Boccaccio.  Almost  imme- 
diately there  followed  a  collection  of  ten  Contes,  with  the 
author's  name  upon  the  title-page,  and  at  various  later 
dates  were  published  added  tales,  until  five  parts  com- 
pleted the  series.  The  success  was  great,  but  great  also 
was  the  scandal,  for  the  bonhomme,  drawing  from  Boc- 
caccio, the  Heptameron,  the  Cent  Nouvelles  nouvelles, 
Rabelais,  Petronius,  Athenaeus,  and  other  sources,  had 
exhibited  no  more  regard  for  decency  than  that  which 
bestows  the  graces  of  lightness,  brightness,  wit,  and 
gaiety  upon  indecency.  His  unabashed  apology  was 
that  the  artistic  laws  of  the  conte  obliged  him  to  decline 
the  laws  of  modesty ;  and  among  those  who  applauded 
his  tales  were  the  Duchess  de  Bouillon  and  Mme.  de 
Sevigne.  It  is  indeed  impossible  not  to  applaud  their 
skill  in  rapid  and  easy  narrative,  and  the  grace,  freedom, 
and  spontaneity  of  the  verse. 


192  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

The  first  six  books  of  the  Fables  appeared  in  1668  ;  the 
next  five  in  two  parts,  in  1678  and  1679  ;  the  twelfth  and 
last  book  in  1694.  When  the  Psyche  was  published,  soon 
after  the  first  group  of  the  Fables,  the  prose  and  verse 
were  placed  in  a  graceful  setting,  which  tells  of  the  con- 
verse of  the  author  with  his  friends  Boileau,  Racine,  and 
Moliere  (or  possibly  Chapelle)  in  the  midst  of  the  un- 
finished gar  dens  of  Versailles,  where  the  author  of  Psyche, 
named  happily  Polyphile  (for  he  loved  many  things,  and 
among  them  his  friends),  will  read  his  romance  for  his 
literary  comrades. 

"  faime  lejcu,  ?  amour,  les  livres,  la  imisique, 
La  ville  et  la  campagne,  enfin  tout :  il  n'est  rieh 

Qui  ne  me  soit  souverain  bien 
Jusq'aux  sombres  plaisirs  d'un  cccur  melancolique? 

Some  of  his  friends  before  long  had  passed  away, 
but  others  came  to  fill  their  places.  For  many  years 
he  was  cared  for  and  caressed  by  the .  amiable  and  cul- 
tivated Mme.  de  Sabliere,  and  when  she  dismissed  other 
acquaintances  she  still  kept  "her  dog,  her  cat,  and  her 
La  Fontaine."  The  Academy  would  have  opened  its 
doors  to  him  sooner  than  to  Boileau,  but  the  King 
would  not  have  it  so,  and  he  was  admitted  (1684)  only 
when  he  had  promised  Louis  XIV.  henceforth  to  be 
sage.  When  Mme.  de  Sabliere  died,  Hervart,  maitre  des 
requetes,  one  day  offered  La  Fontaine  the  hospitality 
of  his  splendid  house.  "  I  was  on  my  way  there,"  re- 
plied the  poet.  After  a  season  of  conversion,  in  which 
he  expressed  penitence  for  his  "infamous  book"  of 
Contes,  the  bonhomme  tranquilly  died  in  April  1693. 
"He  is  so  simple,"  said  his  nurse,  "that  God  will  not 
have  courage  to  damn  him."  "  He  was  the  most  sincere 
and  candid  soul/'  wrote  his  friend  Maucroix,  who  had 


LA  FONTAINE'S   FABLES  193 

been  intimate  with  him  for  more  than  fifty  years,  "  that 
I  have  ever  known  ;  never  a  disguise  ;  I  don't  know 
that  he  spoke  an  untruth  in  all  his  life." 

All  that  is  best  in  the  genius  of  La  Fontaine  may  be 
found  in  his  Fables.  The  comedies  in  which  he  col- 
laborated, the  Captivite  de  Saint  Male,  written  on  the 
suggestion  of  the  Port-Royalists,  the  miscellaneous 
poems,  though  some  of  these  are  admirable,  even  the 
Conies,  exhibit  only  a  fragment  of  his  mind ;  in  the 
Fables  the  play  of  his  faculties  is  exquisite,  and  is  com- 
plete. His  imagination  was  unfitted  for  large  and 
sustained  creation  ;  it  operated  most  happily  in  a  nar- 
row compass.  The  Fables,  however,  contain  much  in 
little  ;  they  unite  an  element  of  drama  and  of  lyric  with 
narrative  ;  they  give  scope  to  his  feeling  for  nature,  and 
to  his  gift  for  the  observation  of  human  character  and 
society ;  they  form,  as  he  himself  has  said — 

"  Une  ample  come'die  a  cents  actes  divers 
Et  dont  la  scene  est  Funtvers" 

He  had  not  to  invent  his  subjects ;  he  found  them  in 
all  the  fabulists  who  had  preceded  him — Greek,  Latin, 
Oriental,  elder  French  writers — "j'en  lis  qui  sont  du 
Nord  et  qui  sont  du  Midi  ; "  but  he  may  be  said  to  have 
recreated  the  species.  From  an  apologue,  tending  to  an 
express  moral,  he  converted  the  fable  into  a  co-nte,  in 
which  narrative,  description,  observation,  satire,  dialogue 
have  an  independent  value,  and  the  moral  is  little  more 
than  an  accident.  This  is  especially  true  of  the  midmost 
portion  of  the  collection — Books  vii.-ix. — which  appeared 
ten  years  after  the  earliest  group.  He  does  not  impose 
new  and  great  ideas  on  the  reader  ;  he  does  not  interpret 
the  deepest  passions ;  he  takes  life  as  he  sees  it,  as  an  en- 


I94  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

tertaining  comedy,  touched  at  times  with  serious  thought, 
with  pathos,  even  with  melancholy,  but  in  the  main  a 
comedy,  which  teaches  us  to  smile  at  the  vanities,  the 
follies,  the  egoisms  of  mankind,  and  teaches  us  at  the  same 
time  something  of  tenderness  and  pity  for  all  that  is 
gentle  or  weak.  His  morality  is  amiable  and  somewhat 
epicurean,  a  morality  of  indulgence,  of  moderation,  of 
good  sense.  His  eye  for  what  is  characteristic  and  pic- 
turesque in  animal  life  is  infallible  ;  but  his  humanised 
wild  creatures  are  also  a  playful,  humorous,  ironical 
presentation  of  mankind  and  of  the  society  of  his  own 
day,  from  the  grand  monarch  to  the  bourgeois  or  the 
lackey. 

La  Fontaine's  language  escapes  from  the  limitations 
of  the  classical  school  of  the  seventeenth  century ;  his 
manifold  reading  in  elder  French  literature  enriched 
his  vocabulary ;  he  seems  to  light  by  instinct  upon  the 
most  exact  and  happiest  word.  Yet  we  know  that  the 
perfection  of  his  art  was  attained  only  as  the  result  of 
untiring  diligence  ;  indolent  and  careless  as  he  was  in 
worldly  affairs,  he  was  an  indefatigable  craftsman  in 
poetry.  His  verse  is  as  free  as  it  is  fine ;  it  can  accom- 
plish whatever  it  intends ;  now  it  is  light  and  swift,  but 
when  needful  it  can  be  grave  and  even  magnificent : 

"  Aurait-il  imprime  sur  le  front  des  e"toiles 
Ce  que  la  nuit  des  temps  enferme  dans  ses  voiles  ?  " 

It  is  verse  which  depends  on  no  mechanical  rules  im- 
posed from  without ;  its  life  and  movement  come  from 
within,  and  the  lines  vary,  like  a  breeze  straying  among 
blossoms,  with  every  stress  or  relaxation  of  the  writer's 
mood.  While  La  Fontaine  derives  much  from  antiquity, 
he  may  be  regarded  as  incarnating  more  than  any  other 


LA  FONTAINE'S  ART  195 

writer  of  his  century  the  genius  of  France,  exquisite  in 
the  proportion  of  his  feeling  and  the  expression  of  feeling 
to  its  source  and  cause.  If  we  do  not  name  him,  with 
some  of  his-  admirers,  "  the  French  Homer,"  we  may  at 
least  describe  him,  with  Nisard,  as  a  second  Montaigne, 
"  mais  plus  doux,  plus  aimable,  plus  naTf  que  le  premier," 
and  with  all  the  charm  of  verse  superadded. 


CHAPTER  VI 
COMEDY  AND  TRAGEDY— MOLIERE— RACINE 

I 

THE  history  of  comedy,  from  Larivey  to  Moliere,  is  one 
of  arrested  development,  followed  by  hasty  and  ill- 
regulated  growth.  During  the  first  twenty-five  years 
of  the  seventeenth  century,  comedy  can  hardly  be  said 
to  have  existed  ;  whatever  tended  to  beauty  or  elevation, 
took  the  form  of  tragi-comedy  or  pastoral ;  what  was 
rude  and  popular  became  a  farce.  From  the  farce 
Moliere's  early  work  takes  its  origin,  but  of  the  reper- 
tory of  his  predecessors  little  survives.  Much,  indeed, 
in  these  performances  was  left  to  the  improvisation  of 
the  burlesque  actors.  Gros-Guillaume,  Gaultier-Gar- 
guille,  Turlupin,  Tabarin,  rejoiced  the  heart  of  the  popu- 
lace ;  but  the  farces  tabariniques  can  hardly  be  dignified 
with  the  name  of  literature. 

In  1632  the  comedy  of  intrigue  was  advanced  by 
Mairet  in  his  Galanteries  du  Due  (fOssone.  The  genius 
of  Rotrou,  follower  though  he  was  of  Plautus,  tended 
towards  the  tragic;  if  he  is  really  gay,  it  is  in  La  Soeur 
(1645),  a  Bright  tangle  of  extravagant  incidents.  For 
Rotrou  the  drama  of  Italy  supplied  material ;  the  way 
to  the  Spanish  drama  was  opened  by  d'Ouville,  the 

only  writer  of  the  time  devoted  specially  to  comedy,  in 

196 


COMEDY  BEFORE  MOLIERE  197 

L' 'E 'sprit  Follet  (1641);  once  opened,  it  became  a  common 
highway.  Scarron  added  to  his  Spanish  originals  in 
Jodelet  and  Don  Japhet  d'Armenie  his  own  burlesque 
humour.  The  comedy  of  contemporary  manners  appears 
with  grace  and  charm  in  Corneille's  early  plays ;  the 
comedy  of  character,  in  his  admirable  Le  Menteur.  Saint- 
Evremond  satirised  literary  affectations  in  La  Comedie 
des  Academistes  ;  these  and  other  follies  of  the  time  are 
presented  with  spirit  in  Desmaret's  remarkable  comedy, 
Les  Visionnaires .  If  we  add,  for  sake  of  its  study  of 
the  peasant  in  the  character  of  Mathieu  Gareau,  the 
farcical  Pedant  Joue  of  Cyrano,  we  have  named  the 
most  notable  comedies  of  the  years  which  preceded 
Les  Prfaieuses  Ridicules. 

Their  general  character  is  extravagance  of  resources 
in  the  plot,  extravagance  of  conception  in  the  char- 
acters. Yet  in  both  intrigue  and  characters  there  is  a 
certain  monotony.  The  same  incidents,  romantic  and 
humorous,  are  variously  mingled  to  produce  the  im- 
broglio ;  the  same  typical  characters — the  braggart,  the 
parasite,  the  pedant,  the  extravagant  poet,  the  amorous 
old  man,  the  designing  woman,  the  knavish  valet,  the 
garrulous  nurse — play  their  mirthful  parts.  If  the  types 
are  studied  from  real  life  rather  than  adopted  from 
Italian  or  Spanish  models,  they  are  exaggerated  to  ab- 
surdity. Corneille  alone  is  distinguished  by  delicacy 
of  imagination  and  the  finer  touch  of  a  dexterous 
artist. 

JEAN-BAPTISTE  PoQUELiN,  who,  when  connected  with 
the  stage,  named  himself  MOLIERE,  was  born  in  January 
1622,  in  Paris,  the  son  of  a  prosperous  upholsterer,  Jean 
Poquelin,  and  Marie  Cresse,  his  wife.  Educated  at  the 
College  de  Clermont,  he  had  among  his  fellow-pupils  the 


198  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

Prince  de  Conti,  Chapelle,  the  future  poet  Hesnault,  the 
future  traveller  Bernier.  There  seems  to  be  no  sufficient 
reason  to  doubt  that  he  and  some  of  his  friends  after- 
wards received  lessons  in  philosophy  from  Gassendi, 
whose  influence  must  have  tended  to  loosen  him  from 
the  traditional  doctrines,  and  to  encourage  independence 
of  thought.  A  translation  by  Moliere  of  the  great  poem 
of  Lucretius  has  been  lost,  but  a  possible  citation  from 
it  appears  in  the  second  act  of  the  Misanthrope.  Legal 
studies  followed  those  of  philosophy.  But  Moliere  had 
other  ends  in  view  than  either  those  of  an  advocate 
or  of  the  hereditary  office  of  upholsterer  to  the  King. 
In  1643,  at  the  age  of  twenty-one,  he  decided  to  throw 
in  his  lot  with  the  theatrical  company  in  which  Madeleine 
B£jart  and  her  brothers  were  leading  members.  The 
Illustre  Theatre  was  constituted,  but  Paris  looked  askance 
at  the  illustrious  actors ;  debt,  imprisonment,  and  release 
through  friendly  aid,  formed  the  net  result  of  Moliere's 
first  experiment. 

The  troupe  decided  at  the  close  of  1645  or  in  the  early 
days  of  the  following  year  to  try  their  fortune  in  the 
provinces.  It  is  needless  to  follow  in  detail  their  move- 
ments during  twelve  years  —  twelve  years  fruitful  in 
experience  for  one  who  observed  life  with  keenest  eyes, 
years  of  toil,  in  which  the  foundations  of  his  art  were 
laid.  At  Lyons,  probably  in  1655,  possibly  in  1653,  a 
comedy,  founded  on  the  Italian  of  Nicolo  Barbieri, 
L'Etonrdi,  saw  the  light,  and  Moliere  revealed  himself 
as  a  poet.  Young  Lelie,  the  £tourdi,  is  enamoured  of 
the  beautiful  Celie,  whom  the  merchant  Trufaldin,  old 
and  rich,  has  purchased  from  corsairs.  Lelie's  valet  Mas- 
carille,  who  is  the  life  of  the  play,  invents  stratagem  on 
stratagem  to  aid  the  lover,  and  is  for  ever  foiled  by  his 


LES   PRECIEUSES  RIDICULES  199 

master's  indiscretions,  until  the  inevitable  happy  denoue- 
ment arrives.  The  romantic  intrigue  is  conventional ; 
the  charm  is  in  the  vivacity  and  colour  of  the  style. 
In  1656  Le  De'pit  Amoureux  was  given  with  applause  at 
B^ziers ;  much  is  derived  from  the  Italian  of  Secchi, 
something  perhaps  from  Terence ;  the  tender  scenes 
of  lovers'  quarrels  and  lovers'  reconciliation,  contrasting 
with  the  franker  comedy  of  the  loves  of  waiting-maid 
and  valet,  still  live,  if  the  rest  of  the  play  be  little  re- 
membered. 

The  years  of  apprenticeship  were  over  when,  in  1658, 
Moliere  and  his  company  once  more  in  Paris  presented, 
by  command,  before  the  King,  Corneille's  Nicomede,  and, 
leave  being  granted,  gave  his  farce  in  the  Italian  style, 
the  Docteur  Amoureux,  before  pleased  spectators.  The 
company  was  now  the  troupe  of  Monsieur,  the  King's 
brother,  with  the  Petit-Bourbon  as  theatre,  and  there, 
in  November  1659,  was  enacted  Moliere's  first  satiric  play 
on  contemporary  manners,  Les  Precieuses  Ridicules.  We 
do  not  need  the  legendary  old  man  crying  from  the  pit 
"  Courage,  Moliere  !  voila  la  bonne  com^die "  to  assure 
us  that  the  comic  stage  possessed  at  length  a  master- 
piece. The  dramatist  had  himself  known  the  precieuses 
of  the  provinces  ;  through  them  he  might  with  less 
danger  exhibit  the  follies  of  the  Hotel  de  Rambouillet 
and  the  ruelles  of  the  capital.  The  good  bourgeois 
Gorgibus  is  induced  by  his  niece  and  daughter,  two 
precieuses,  to  establish  himself  in  Paris.  Their  aspirant 
lovers,  unversed  in  the  affectations  of  the  salon,  are 
slighted  and  repelled ;  in  revenge  they  employ  their 
valets,  Mascarille  and  Jodelet,  to  play  the  parts  of  men 
of  fashion  and  of  taste.  The  exposure  and  confusion 
of  the  ladies,  with  an  indignant  rebuke  from  Gorgibus, 
14 


200  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

close  the  piece.  It  was  a  farce  raised  to  the  dignity  of 
comedy.  Moliere's  triumph  was  the  triumph  of  good 
sense. 

After  a  success  in  Sganarelle  (1660),  a  broad  comedy 
of  vulgar  jealousy,  and  a  decided  check — the  only  one 
in  his  dramatic  career — in  the  somewhat  colourless  tragi- 
comedy Don  Garde  de  Navarre  (1661),  Moliere  found  a 
theme,  suggested  by  the  Adelphi  of  Terence,  which  was 
happily  suited  to  his  genius.  L'Jzcole  des  Marts  (1661) 
contrasts  two  methods  of  education — one  suspicious  and 
severe,  the  other  wisely  indulgent.  Two  brothers,  Ariste 
and  Sganarelle,  seek  the  hands  of  their  wards,  the  orphan 
sisters  Isabelle  and  Leonor ;  the  amiable  Ariste,  aided 
by  the  good  sense  of  a  gay  soubrette,  is  rewarded  with 
happiness ;  the  vexatious  Sganarelle  is  put  to  confusion. 
The  drama  is  a  plea,  expressing  the  writer's  personal 
thoughts,  for  nature  and  for  freedom.  The  comedy  of 
manners  is  here  replaced  by  the  comedy  of  character. 
Its  success  suggested  to  Fouquet  that  Moliere  might 
contribute  to  the  amusement  of  the  King  at  the  fetes 
of  the  Chateau  de  Vaux  ;  in  fifteen  days  the  dramatist 
had  his  bright  improvisation  Les  Facheux  ready,  a  series 
of  character  sketches  in  scenes  rather  than  a  comedy. 
.The  King  smiled  approval,  and,  it  was  whispered,  hinted 
to  Moliere  that  another  bore  might  with  advantage  be 
added  to  the  collection — the  sportsman  whose  talk  shall 
be  of  sport.  At  Fontainebleau  he  duly  appeared  before 
his  Majesty,  and  unkind  spectators  recognised  a  portrait 
of  the  Marquis  de  Soyecourt. 

Next  February  (1662)  Moliere,  aged  forty,  was  married 
to  the  actress  Armande  Bejart,  whose  age*  was  half  his 
own — a  disastrous  union,  which  caused  him  inexpres- 
sible anxiety  and  unhappiness.  In  L'fccole  des  Femmes 


AFFAIR  OF  TARTUFE  201 

of  the  same  year  he  is  wiser  than  he  had  shown  himself 
in  actual  life.  Arnolphe  would  train  a  model  wife  from 
childhood  by  the  method  of  jealous  seclusion  and  in 
infantile  ignorance  ;  but  love,  in  the  person  of  young 
Horace,  finds  out  a  way.  There  is  pathos  in  the  anguish 
of  Arnolphe ;  yet  it  is  not  the  order  of  nature  that 
middle-aged  folks  should  practise  perverting  arts  upon 
innocent  affections.  The  charming  Agnes  belongs  of 
right  to  Horace,  and  the  over-wise,  and  therefore  foolish, 
Arnolphe  must  quit  the  scene  with  his  despairing  cry. 
Some  matter  of  offence  was  found  by  the  devout  in 
Moliere's  play  ;  it  was  the  opening  of  a  long  campaign  ; 
the  pr/deuses,  the  dainty  gentle-folk,  the  critical  disciples 
of  Aristotle,  the  rival  comedians,  were  up  in  arms. 
Moliere  for  the  occasion  ignored  the  devout ;  upon  the 
others  he  made  brilliant  reprisals  in  La  Critique  de 
I '  Ecole  des  Femmes  (1663)  and  U  Impromptu  de  Versailles 
(1663). 

Among  those  who  war  against  nature  and  human 
happiness,  not  the  least  dangerous  foe  is  the  religious 
hypocrite.  On  May  12,  1664,  Moliere  presented  before 
the  King  the  first  three  acts  of  his  great  character- 
comedy  Tartufe.  Instantly  Anne  of  Austria  and  the 
King's  confessor,  now  Archbishop  of  Paris,  set  to 
work ;  the  public  performance  of  "  The  Hypocrite " 
was  inhibited ;  a  savage  pamphlet  was  directed  against 
its  author  by  the  cure  of  Saint-Barthelemy.  Private 
representations,  however,  were  given  ;  Tartufe,  in  five 
acts,  was  played  in  November  in  presence  of  the  great 
Conde".  In  1665  Moliere's  company  was  named  the 
servants  of  the  King  ;  two  years  later  a  verbal  permis- 
sion was  granted  for  the  public  performance  of  the 
play.  It  appeared  under  the  title  of  L'Imposteur ;  the 


202  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

victory  seemed  won,  when  again,  and  without  delay,  the 
blow  fell ;  by  order  of  the  President,  M.  de  Lamoignon, 
the  theatre  was  closed.  Moliere  bore  up  courageously. 
The  King  was  besieging  Lille  ;  Moliere  despatched  two 
of  his  comrades  to  the  camp,  declaring  that  if  the  Tar- 
tufes  of  France  should  carry  all  before  them  he  must 
cease  to  write.  The  King  was  friendly,  but  the  Arch- 
bishop fulminated  threats  of  excommunication  against 
any  one  who  should  even  read  the  play.  At  length 
in  1669,  when  circumstances  were  more  favourable, 
Louis  XIV.  granted  the  desired  permission ;  in  its 
proper  name  Moliere's  play  obtained  complete  free- 
dom. Bourdaloue  might  still  pronounce  condemnation ; 
Bossuet  might  draw  terrible  morals  from  the  author's 
sudden  death  ;  an  actor,  armed  with  the  sword  of  the 
comic  spirit,  had  proved  victorious.  And  yet  the  theolo- 
gians were  not  wholly  wrong  ;  the  tendency  of  Moliere's 
teaching,  like  that  of  Rabelais  and  like  that  of  Montaigne, 
is  to  detach  morals  from  religion,  to  vindicate  whatever 
is  natural,  to  regard  good  sense  and  good  feeling  as 
sufficient  guides  of  conduct. 

There  is  an  accent  of  indignation  in  the  play ;  the 
follies  of  men  and  women  may  be  subjects  of  sport ; 
base  egoism  assuming  the  garb  of  religion  deserves  a 
lash  that  draws  the  blood.  Is  it  no  act  of  natural  piety 
to  defend  the  household  against  the  designs  of  greedy 
and  sensual  imposture  ;  no  service  to  society  to  quicken 
the  penetration  of  those  who  may  be  made  the  dupes  of 
selfish  craft  ?  While  Orgon  and  his  mother  are  besotted 
by  the  gross  pretensions  of  the  hypocrite,  while  the 
young  people  contend  for  the  honest  joy  of  life,  the 
voice  of  philosophic  wisdom  is  heard  through  the  saga- 
cious Cleante,  and  that  of  frank  good  sense  through 


DON  JUAN  :    LE  MISANTHROPE  203 

the  waiting-maid,  Dorine.  Suddenly  a  providence,  not 
divine  but  human,  intervenes  in  the  representative  of  the 
monarch  and  the  law,  and  the  criminal  at  the  moment  of 
triumph  is  captured  in  his  own  snare. 

When  the  affair  of  Tartufe  was  in  its  first  tangle, 
Moliere  produced  a  kind  of  dramatic  counterpart — Don 
Juan,  on  le  Fesiiu  de  Pierre  (1665).  In  Don  Juan — whose 
valet  Sganarelle  is  the  faithful  critic  of  his  master — the 
dramatist  presented  one  whose  cynical  incredulity  and 
scorn  of  all  religion  are  united  with  the  most  complete 
moral  licence ;  but  hypocrisy  is  the  fashion  of  the  day, 
and  Don  Juan  in  sheer  effrontery  will  invest  himself  for 
an  hour  in  the  robe  of  a  penitent.  Atheist  and  libertine  as 
he  is,  there  is  a  certain  glamour  of  reckless  courage  about 
the  figure  of  his  hero,  recreated  by  Moliere  from  a 
favourite  model  of  Spanish  origin.  His  comedy,  while 
a  vigorous  study  of  character,  is  touched  with  the  light 
of  romance. 

These  are  masterpieces  ;  but  neither  Tartufe  nor  Don 
Juan  expresses  so  much  of  the  mind  of  Moliere  as  does 
Le  Misanthrope  (1666).  His  private  griefs,  his  public 
warfare,  had  doubtless  a  little  hardened  and  a  little  em- 
bittered his  spirit.  In  many  respects  it  is  a  sorry  world  ; 
and  yet  we  must  keep  on  terms  with  it.  The  misan- 
thropist Alceste  is  nobly  fanatical  on  behalf  of  sincerity 
and  rectitude.  How  does  his  sincerity  serve  the  world 
or  serve  himself  ?  And  he,  too,  has  his  dose  of  human 
folly,  for  is  he  not  enamoured  of  a  heartless  coquette  ? 
Philinte  is  accommodating,  and  accepts  the  world  for 
what  it  is  ;  and  yet,  we  might  ask,  is  there  not  a  more 
settled  misanthropy  in  such  cynical  acquiescence  than 
there  is  in  the  intractable  virtue  of  Alceste  ?  Alone  of 
Moliere's  plays,  Le  Misanthrope  has  that  Shakespearean 


204  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

obscurity  which  leaves  it  open  to  various  interpretations. 
It  is  idle  to  try  to  discover  actual  originals  for  the  charac- 
ters. But  we  may  remember  that  when  Alceste  cried  to 
Celimene,  "  C'est  pour  mes  peche"s  que  je  vous  aime,"  the 
actors  who  stood  face  to  face  were  Moliere  and  the  wife 
whom  he  now  met  only  on  the  stage. 

Moliere's  genius  could  achieve  nothing  higher  than 
Tartufe  and  the  Misanthrope.  His  powers  suffered  no 
decline,  but  he  did  not  again  put  them  to  such  strenuous 
uses.  In  1668  the  brilliant  fantasy  of  Amphitryon,  freely 
derived  from  Plautus,  was  succeeded  by  an  admirable 
comedy  in  prose,  Georges  Dandin,  in  which  the  folly  of 
unequal  marriage  between  the  substantial  farmer  and 
the  fine  lady  is  mocked  with  bitter  gaiety.  Before  the 
year  closed  Moliere,  continuing  to  write  in  prose,  returned 
to  Plautus,  and  surpassed  him  in  L'Avare.  To  be  rich 
and  miserly  is  in  itself  a  form  of  fatuity  ;  but  Harpagon 
is  not  only  miserly  but  amorous,  as  far  as  a  ruling  passion 
will  admit  one  of  subordinate  influence.  Le  Bourgeois 
Gentilhomme  (1670),  a  lesson  of  good  sense  to  those  who 
suffer  from  the  social  ambition  to  rise  above  their  proper 
rank,  is  wholly  original  ;  it  mounts  in  the  close  from 
comedy  to  the  extravagance  of  farce,  and  perhaps  in  the 
uproarious  laughter  of  the  play  we  may  discover  a  touch 
of  effort  or  even  of  spasm.  The  operatic  Psyche  (1671) 
is  memorable  as  having  combined  the  talents  of  Moliere, 
Corneille,  and  Quinault,  with  the  added  musical  gifts  of 
Lulli. 

In  Les  Femmcs  Savantes  (1672)  Moliere  returned  to  an 
early  theme,  with  variations  suited  to  the  times.  The  Hotel 
de  Rambouillet  was  closed  ;  the  new  tribe  of  pr^cieuses 
had  learnt  the  Cartesian  philosophy,  affected  the  sciences, 
were  patronesses  of  physics,  astronomy,  anatomy.  Some- 


LES   FEMMES  SAVANTES  205 

thing  of  the  old  romantic  follies  survived,  and  mingled 
strangely  with  the  pretensions  to  science  and  the  pedan- 
tries of  erudition.  Trissotin  (doubtless  a  portrait  in 
caricature  from  the  Abbe  Cotin)  is  the  Tartufe  of  spu- 
rious culture  ;  Vadius  (a  possible  satire  of  Menage)  is  a 
pedant,  arrogant  and  brutal.  Shall  the  charming  Hen- 
riette  be  sacrificed  to  gratify  her  mother's  domineering 
temper  and  the  base  designs  of  an  impostor  ?  The 
forces  are  arrayed  on  either  side ;  the  varieties  of 
learned  and  elegant  folly  in  woman  are  finely  distin- 
guished; of  the  opposite  party  are  Chrysale,  the  bourgeois 
father  with  his  rude  common  -  sense ;  the  sage  Ariste  ; 
the  faithful  servant,  Martine,  whose  grammar  may  be 
faulty,  but  whose  wit  is  sound  and  clear ;  and  Henriette 
herself,  the  adorable,  whom  to  know  is  more  of  a 
liberal  education  than  to  have  explored  all  the  Greek 
and  Latin  masters  of  Vadius  and  Trissotin.  The  final 
issue  of  the  encounter  between  good  sense,  good 
nature,  reason  and  folly,  pedantry  and  pride,  cannot 
be  uncertain. 

Le  Malade  Imaginaire  was  written  when  Moliere  was 
suffering  from  illness ;  but  his  energy  remained  indomi- 
table. The  comedy  continued  that  long  polemic  against 
the  medical  faculty  which  he  had  sustained  in  L' Amour 
Medicin,  Monsieur  de  Pourceaugnac,  and  other  plays. 
Moliere  had  little  faith  in  any  art  which  professes  to 
mend  nature  ;  the  physicians  were  the  impostors  of  a 
learned  hygiene.  It  was  the  dramatist's  last  jest  at  the 
profession.  While  playing  the  part  of  Argan  on  Feb- 
ruary 17,  1673,  the  "Malade  Imaginaire"  fell  dying  on 
the  stage  ;  he  forced  a  laugh,  but  could  not  continue 
his  part ;  at  ten  o'clock  he  was  no  more.  Through  the 
exertions  of  his  widow  a  religious  funeral  was  permitted 


206  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

to  an  actor  who  had  died  unfortified  by  the  rites  of  the 
Church. 

Many  admirable  though  slighter  pieces  served  as  the 
relief  of  his  mind  between  the  effort  of  his  chief  works. 
In  all,  gaiety  and  good  sense  interpenetrate  each  other. 
Kindly  natured  and  generous,  Moliere,  a  great  observer, 
who  looked  through  the  deeds  of  men,  was  often  taci- 
turn— le  contemplateur  of  Boileau — and  seemingly  self- 
absorbed.  Like  many  persons  of  artistic  tempera- 
ment, he  loved  splendour  of  life  ;  but  he  was  liberal 
in  his  largess  to  those  who  claimed  his  help.  He 
brought  comedy  to  nature,  and  made  it  a  study  of 
human  life.  His  warfare  was  against  all  that  is  unreal 
and  unnatural.  He  preached  the  worth  of  human 
happiness,  good  sense,  moderation,  humorous  toler- 
ance. He  does  not  indulge  in  heroics,  and  yet  there 
is  heroism  in  his  courageous  outlook  upon  things.  The 
disciple  of  Moliere  cannot  idealise  the  world  into  a  scene 
of  fairyland  ;  he  will  conceive  man  as  far  from  perfect, 
perhaps  as  far  from  perfectible  ;  but  the  world  is  our 
habitation  ;  let  us  make  it  a  cheerful  one  with  the  aid 
of  a  sane  temper  and  an  energetic  will.  As  a  writer, 
Moliere  is  not  free  from  faults ;  but  his  defects  of  style 
are  like  the  accidents  that  happen  within  the  bounds 
of  a  wide  empire.  His  stature  is  not  diminished  when 
he  is  placed  among  the  greatest  European  figures.  "  I 
read  some  pieces  of  Moliere's  every  year,"  said  Goethe, 
"just  as  from  time  to  time  I  contemplate  the  engravings 
after  the  great  Italian  masters.  For  we  little  men  are 
not  able  to  retain  the  greatness  of  such  things  within 
ourselves." 

To  study  the  contemporaries  and  immediate  successors 
of  Moliere  in  comedy  —  Thomas  Corneille,  Quinault, 


PHILIPPE  QUINAULT  207 

Montfleury,  Boursault,  Baron — would  be  to  show  how 
his  genius  dominates  that  of  all  his  fellows.  The  reader 
may  well  take  this  fact  for  granted.1 


II 

With  the  close  of  the  sanguinary  follies  of  the  Fronde, 
with  the  inauguration  of  the  personal  government  of  Louis 
XIV.  and  the  triumph  of  an  absolute  monarchy,  a  period 
of  social  and  political  reorganisation  began.  The  court 
became  the  centre  for  literature  ;  to  please  courtiers  and 
great  ladies  was  to  secure  prosperity  and  fame  ;  the  arts 
of  peace  were  magnificently  ordered ;  the  conditions 
were  favourable  to  ideals  of  grace  and  beauty  rather 
than  of  proud  sublimity  ;  to  isolate  one's  self  was  impos- 
sible ;  literature  became  the  pastime  of  a  cultivated 
society ;  it  might  be  a  trivial  pastime,  but  in  fitting  hands 
it  might  become  a  noble  pleasure. 

The  easier  part  was  chosen  by  PHILIPPE  QUINAULT, 
the  more  arduous  by  Racine.  Quinault  (1635-88)  had 
given  his  first  comedy  as  early  as  1653  ;  in  tragedies 
and  tragi  -  comedies  which  followed,  he  heaped  up 
melodramatic  incidents,  but  could  not  base  them  upon 
characters  strongly  conceived,  or  passion  truly  felt.  A 
frigid  sentimentality  replaces  passion,  and  this  is  expressed 
with  languorous  monotony.  Love  reigns  supreme  in  his 
theatre  ;  but  love,  as  interpreted  by  Quinault,  is  a  kind 
of  dulcet  gallantry.  His  tragedy  Astrate  (1663)  was  not 
the  less  popular  because  its  sentiment  was  in  the  con- 
ventional mode.  One  comedy  by  Quinault,  La  Mere 

1  An  excellent  guide  will  be  found  in  Victor  Fournel's  Le  Thcdtre  au  xvii. 
Sihle,  La  Comedie. 


208  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

Coquette,  is  happy  in  its  plot  and  in  its  easy  style.  But 
he  did  not  find  his  true  direction  until  he  declined — or 
should  we  rather  say,  until  he  rose  ? — into  the  librettist 
for  the  operas  of  Lulli.  His  lyric  gifts  were  consider- 
able ;  he  could  manipulate  his  light  and  fragile  material 
with  extraordinary  skill.  The  tests  of  truth  and  reality 
were  not  applied  to  such  verse ;  if  it  was  decorative, 
the  listeners  were  satisfied.  The  opera  flourished,  and 
literature  suffered  through  its  pseudo-poetics.  But  the 
libretti  of  Quinault  and  the  ballets  of  Benserade  are 
representative  of  the  time,  and  in  his  mythological  or 
chivalric  inventions  Benserade  sometimes  could  attain 
to  the  poetry  of  graceful  fantasy. 

Quinault  retired  from  the  regular  drama  almost  at  the 
moment  when  Racine  appeared.  Born  at  La  Ferte-Milon 
in  1639,  son  of  a  procureur  and  comptroller  of  salt,  JEAN 
RACINE  lost  both  parents  while  a  child.  His  widowed 
grandmother  retired  to  Port-Royal  in  1649.  After  six 
years'  schooling  at  Beauvais  the  boy  passed  into  the 
tutelage  of  the  Jansenists,  and  among  his  instructors 
was  the  devout  and  learned  Nicole.  Solitude,  religion, 
the  abbey  woods,  Virgil,  Sophocles,  Euripides  —  these 
were  the  powers  that  fostered  his  genius.  Already  he 
was  experimenting  in  verse.  At  nineteen  he  continued 
his  studies  in  Paris,  where  the  little  abbe  Le  Vasseur, 
who  knew  the  salons  and  haunted  the  theatre,  introduced 
him  to  mundane  pleasures.  Racine's  sensitive,  mobile 
character  could  easily  adapt  itself  to  the  world.  His 
ode  on  the  marriage  of  the  King,  La  Nymphe  de  la  Seine, 
corrected  by  Chapelain  (for  to  bring  Tritons  into  a  river 
was  highly  improper),  won  him  a  gift  of  louis  d'or.  But 
might  not  the  world  corrupt  the  young  Port-Royalist's 
innocence  ?  The  company  of  ladies  of  the  Marais 


RACINE'S   EARLY  PLAYS  209 

Theatre  and  that  of  La  Fontaine  might  not  tend  to 
edification.  So  thought  Racine's  aunts  ;  and,  with  the 
expectation  that  he  would  take  orders,  he  was  exiled  to 
Uzes,  where  his  uncle  was  vicar-general,  and  wrhere  the 
nephew  could  study  the  Summa  of  theology,  but  also 
the  Odyssey,  the  odes  of  Pindar,  Petrarch,  and  the  pretty 
damsels  who  prayed  in  the  cathedral  church. 

In  1663  he  was  again  in  Paris,  was  present  at  royal 
levees,  and  in  Boileau's  chambers  renewed  his  acquaint- 
ance with  La  Fontaine,  and  became  a  companion  of 
Moliere.  His  vocation  was  not  that  of  an  ecclesiastic. 
Two  dramatic  works  of  earlier  date  are  lost ;  his  first 
piece  that  appeared  before  the  public,  La  Thebaide,  was 
presented  in  1664  by  Moliere's  company.  It  is  a  tragedy 
written  in  discipleship  to  Rotrou  and  to  Corneille,  and 
the  pupil  was  rather  an  imitator  of  Corneille's  infirmities 
than  of  his  excellences.  Alexandra  followed  towards  the 
close  of  the  ensuing  year — a  feeble  play,  in  which  the 
mannered  gallantry  of  the  time  was  liberally  transferred 
to  the  kings  of  India  and  their  Macedonian  conqueror. 
But  amorous  sighs  were  the  mode,  and  there  was  a 
young  grand  monarch  who  might  discover  himself  in 
the  person  of  the  magnanimous  hero.  The  success  was 
great,  though  Saint-Evremond  pronounced  his  censures, 
and  Corneille  found  ridiculous  the  trophies  erected  upon 
the  imagined  ruins  of  his  own.  Discontented  with  the 
performers  at  the  Palais-Royal,  Racine  offered  his  play 
to  the  Hotel  de  Bourgogne ;  Moliere's  best  actress 
seceded  to  the  rival  house.  Racine's  ambition  may 
excuse,  but  cannot  justify  an  injurious  act;  a  breach 
between  the  friends  was  inevitable. 

Boileau  remained  now,  as  ever,  loyal — loyal  for  warn- 
ing as  well  as  for  encouragement.  Nicole,  the  former 


210  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

* 

guide  of  Racine's  studies,  in  his  Visionnaires,  had  spoken 
of  dramatic  poets  as  "  public  poisoners."  The  reproach 
was  taken  to  himself  by  Racine,  and  in  two  letters,  written 
with  some  of  the  spirit  of  the  Provinciates,  he  turned  his 
wit  against  his  Jansenist  friends.  Thanks  to  Boileau's 
wise  and  firm  counsel,  the  second  of  these  remained 
unpublished. 

Madame  de  Sevigne  was  the  devoted  admirer  of  the 
great  Corneille,  but  when  she  witnessed  his  young  rival's 
Andromaque  she  yielded  to  its  pathos  six  reluctant  tears. 
On  its  first  appearance  in  1667  a  triumph  almost  equal 
to  that  of  the  Cid  was  secured.  Never  before  had  grace 
and  passion,  art  and  nature,  ideality  and  truth,  been  so 
united  in  the  theatre  of  France.  Racine  did  not  seek 
for  novelty  in  the  choice  of  a  subject ;  Euripides  had 
made  Andromache  familiar  to  the  Greek  stage.  The 
invention  of  Racine  was  of  a  subtler  kind  than  that 
which  manufactures  incidents  and  constructs  a  plot. 
Like  Raphael  in  the  art  of  painting,  he  could  accept  a 
well-known  theme  and  renew  it  by  the  finest  processes 
of  genius.  He  did  not  need  an  extraordinary  action,  or 
personages  of  giant  proportions  ;  the  simpler  the  intrigue, 
the  better  could  he  concentrate  the  interest  on  the  states 
of  a  soul ;  the  more  truly  and  deeply  human  the  char- 
acters, the  more  apt  were  they  for  betraying  the  history 
of  a  passion.  In  its  purity  of  outline,  its  harmony  of 
proportions,  Andromaque  was  Greek;  in  its  sentiment, 
it  gained  something  from  Christian  culture ;  in  its 
manners,  there  was  a  certain  reflection  of  the  Versailles 
of  Louis  XIV.  It  was  at  once  classical  and  modern, 
and  there  was  no  discordance  between  qualities  which 
had  been  rendered,  to  borrow  a  word  from  Shakespeare, 
"harmonious  charmingly."  With  Andromaque  French 


LES   PLAIDEURS  21  r 

tragedy  ceased  to  be  oratorical,  and  became  essentially 
poetic. 

Adversaries  there  were,  such  as  success  calls  forth  ; 
the  irritable  poet  retorted  with  epigrams  of  a  kind  which 
multiply  and  perpetuate  enmities.  His  true  reprisal 
was  another  work,  Britannicus,  establishing  his  fame 
in  another  province  of  tragedy.  But  before  Britannicus 
appeared  he  had  turned  aside,  as  if  his  genius  needed 
recreation,  to  produce  the  comedy,  or  farce,  or  buffoonery, 
or  badinage,  or  mockery  (for  it  is  all  these),  Les  Plaideurs. 
It  may  be  that  his  failure  in  a  lawsuit  moved  Racine  to 
have  his  jest  at  the  gentlemen  of  the  Palais ;  he  and  his 
friends  of  the  tavern  of  the  Mouton  Blanc — Furetiere 
among  them — may  have  put  their  wits  together  to  de- 
vise material  for  laughter,  and  discussed  how  far  The 
Wasps  of  Aristophanes  could  be  acclimatised  in  Paris. 
At  first  the  burlesque  was  meant  for  an  Italian  troupe, 
but  Scaramouche  left  the  town,  and  something  more 
carefully  developed  would  be  expected  at  the  Hotel 
de  Bourgogne.  The  play  was  received  with  hisses,  but 
Moliere  did  not  fear  to  laugh  at  what  was  comic,  whether 
he  laughed  according  to  the  rules  or  against  them.  A 
month  later,  at  a  court  performance,  Louis  XIV.  laughed 
loudly ;  the  courtiers  quickly  discovered  Racine's  wit, 
and  the  laughter  was  echoed  by  all  loyal  citizens.  In 
truth,  there  is  laughing  matter  in  the  play  ;  the  pro- 
fessional enthusiasm  of  Dandin,  the  judge,  who  wears 
his  robe  and  cap  even  in  bed,  the  rage  and  rapture 
of  litigation  in  Chicanneau  and  the  Countess,  have  in 
them  something  of  nature  beneath  the  caricature ;  in 
the  buffoonery  there  is  a  certain  extravagant  grace. 

Les  Plaideurs,   however,   was   only  an   interlude   be- 
tween graver  efforts.    Britannicus  (1669),  founded  on  the 


212  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

Annals  of  Tacitus,  exhibits  with  masterly  power  Nero's 
adolescence  in  crime ;  the  young  tiger  has  grace  and 
strength,  but  the  instinct  of  blood  needs  only  to  be 
awakened  within  him.  Agrippine  is  a  superb  incarnation 
of  womanly  ambition,  a  Roman  sister  of  Athalie.  The 
play  was  at  first  coldly  received  ;  Corneille  and  his  cabal 
did  not  spare  their  censures.  In  a  preface  Racine  struck 
back,  but  afterwards  repented  of  his  bitter  words  and 
withdrew  them.  The  critics,  as  he  says  in  a  later  pre- 
face, disappeared ;  the  piece  remained.  His  conception 
of  tragedy  in  contrast  with  that  of  Corneille  was  defined 
by  him  in  memorable  words — what  is  natural  should 
be  sought  rather  than  what  is  extraordinary ;  the  action 
should  be  simple,  "  charged  de  peu  de  matiere  "  ;  it  should 
advance  gradually  towards  the  close,  sustained  by  the 
interests,  sentiments,  and  passions  of  the  personages. 

The  sprightly  Henrietta  of  England,  Duchess  of 
Orleans,  seems  to  have  conceived  the  idea  of  bringing 
the  rivalry  between  the  old  dramatic  poet  and  his  young 
successor  to  a  decisive  test.  She  proposed  to  each, 
without  the  other's  knowledge,  a  subject  for  a  tragedy — 
the  parting,  for  reasons  of  State  policy,  of  two  royal 
lovers,  Titus,  Emperor  of  Rome,  and  Berenice,  Queen 
of  Palestine.  Perhaps  Henrietta  mischievously  thought 
of  the  relations  of  her  friend  Marie  de  Mancini  with 
Louis  XIV.  The  plays  appeared  almost  simultaneously 
in  November  1670 ;  Corneille's  was  before  long  with- 
drawn ;  Racine's  Berenice,  in  which  the  penetrating  voice 
of  La  Champmesle  interpreted  the  sorrows  of  the  heroine, 
obtained  a  triumph.  Yet  the  elegiac  subject  is  hardly 
suited  to  tragedy ;  a  situation  rather  than  an  action  is 
presented ;  it  needed  all  the  poet's  resources  to  prevent 
the  scenes  from  being  stationary.  In  Berenice  there  is 


BAJAZET:    MITHRIDATE:    IPHIGENIE     213 

a  suavity  in  grief  which  gives  a  grace  to  her  passion  ;  the 
play,  if  not  a  drama  of  power,  is  the  most  charming  of 
elegiac  tragedies. 

Bajazet  (1672),  a  tragedy  of  the  seraglio,  although  the 
role  of  the  hero  is  feeble,  has  virile  qualities.  The  fury 
of  Eastern  passion,  a  love  resembling  hate,  is  represented 
in  the  Sultana  Roxane.  In  the  Vizier  Acomat,  deliberate 
in  craft,  intrepid  in  danger,  Racine  proved,  as  he  proved 
by  his  Nero  and  his  Joad,  that  he  was  not  always  doomed 
to  fail  in  his  characters  of  men.  The  historical  events 
were  comparatively  recent ;  but  in  the  perspective  of 
the  theatre,  distance  may  produce  the  idealising  effect 
of  time.  The  story  was  perhaps  found  by  Racine  in 
Floridon,  a  tale  by  Segrais.  The  heroine  of  Mithridate 
(1673),  the  noble  daughter  of  Ephesus,  Monime,  queen 
and  slave,  is  an  ideal  of  womanly  love,  chastity,  fidelity, 
sacrifice  ;  gentle,  submissive,  and  yet  capable  of  lofty 
courage.  The  play  unites  the  passions  of  romance  with 
a  study  of  large  political  interests  hardly  surpassed  by 
Corneille.  The  cabal  which  gathered  head  against  Baja- 
zet could  only  whisper  its  malignities  when  Mithridate 
appeared. 

Iphigenie,  which  is  freely  imitated  from  Euripides,  was 
given  at  the  fetes  of  Versailles  in  the  summer  of  1674. 
The  French  Iphigenia  is  enamoured  of  Achilles,  and 
death  means  for  her  not  only  departure  from  the  joy 
of  youth  and  the  light  of  the  sun,  but  the  Idss  of  love. 
Here,  as  elsewhere,  Racine  complicates  the  moral  situa- 
tion with  cross  and  counter  loves:  Eriphile  is  created  to 
be  the  jealous  rival  of  Iphigenie,  and  to  be  her  substitute 
in  the  sacrifice  of  death.  The  ingenious  transpositions, 
which  were  necessary  to  adapt  a  Greek  play  to  Versailles 
in  the  second  half  of  the  seventeenth  century,  called  forth 


214  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

hostile  criticisms.  Through  miserable  intrigues  a  com- 
peting Iphigenie,  the  work  of  Le  Clerc  and  Coras,  was 
produced  in  the  spring  of  1675  ;  it  was  born  dead,  and 
five  days  later  it  was  buried. 

The  hostilities  culminated  two  years  later.  It  is  com- 
monly said  that  Racine  wrote  in  the  conventional  and 
courtly  taste  of  his  own  day.  In  reality  his  presentation 
of  tragic  passions  in  their  terror  and  their  truth  shocked 
the  aristocratic  proprieties  which  were  the  mode.  He 
was  an  innovator,  and  his  audacity  at  once  conquered 
and  repelled.  It  was  known  that  Racine  was  engaged  on 
l^hedre.  The  Duchesse  de  Bouillon  and  her  brother  the 
Due  de  Nevers  were  arbiters  of  elegance  in  literature, 
and  decreed  that  it  should  fail.  A  rival  play  on  the  same 
subject  was  ordered  from  Pradon  ;  and  to  insure  her 
victory  the  Duchess,  at  a  cost  of  fifteen  thousand  livres,  as 
Boileau  declares,  engaged  the  front  seats  of  two  theatres 
for  six  successive  evenings — the  one  to  be  packed  with 
applauding  spectators,  the  other  to  exhibit  empty  benches, 
diversified  with  creatures  who  could  hiss.  Nothing  could 
dignify  Pradon's  play,  as  nothing  could  really  degrade 
that  of  Racine.  But  Racine  was  in  the  highest  degree 
sensitive,  and  such  a  desperate  plot  against  his  fame 
might  well  make  him  pause  and  reflect. 

Phedre,  like  Iphigenie,  is  a  new  creation  from  Euripides. 
Its  singular  beauty  has  been  accurately  defined  as  a 
mingling  of  horror  and  compassion,  of  terror  and  curio- 
sity. It  is  less  a  drama  than  one  great  part,  and  that  part 
consists  of  a  diseased  state  of  the  soul,  a  morbid  conflict 
of  emotions,  so  that  the  play  becomes  overmuch  a  study 
in  the  pathology  of  passion.  The  greatness  of  the  role 
of  the  heroine  constitutes  the  infirmity  of  the  play  as  a 
whole  ;  the  other  characters  seem  to  exist  only  for  the 


RACINE'S  RETIREMENT  215 

sake  of  deploying  the  inward  struggle  of  which  Phedre 
is  the  victim.  Love  and  jealousy  rage  within  her ; 
remorse  follows,  fo?  something  of  Christian  sentiment 
is  conveyed  by  Racine  into  his  classical  fable.  Never 
had  his  power  as  a  psychologist  in  art  been  so  won- 
derfully exhibited  ;  yet  he  had  elsewhere  attained  more 
completely  the  ideal  of  the  drama.  In  the  succession 
of  his  profane  masterpieces  we  may  say  of  the  last 
that  it  is  lesser  than  the  first  and  greater.  Phedre  lacks 
the  balance  and  proportion  of  Andromaque ;  but  never 
had  Racine  exhibited  the  tempest  and  ravage  of  passion 
in  a  woman's  soul  on  so  great  a  scale  or  with  force  so 
terrible. 

The  cabal  might  make  him  pause  ;  his  own  play,  pro- 
foundly moralised  as  it  was,  might  cause  him  to  consider. 
Events  of  the  day,  crimes  of  passion,  adulteries,  poison- 
ings, nameless  horrors,  might  agitate  his  spirit.  Had  he 
not  fed  the  full-blown  passions  of  the  time  ?  What  if 
Nicole's  word  that  playwrights  were  public  poisoners 
should  be  true  ?  Probably  various  causes  operated  on 
the  mobile  spirit  of  Racine  ;  certainly  the  Christian,  of 
Jansenist  education,  who  had  slumbered  within  him,  now 
awakened.  He  resolved  to  quit  the  world  and  adopt  the 
Carthusian  habit.  The  advice  of  his  confessor  was  that 
he  should  regulate  his  life  by  marriage.  Racine  yielded, 
and  found  his  contentment  in  a  wife  who  was  ignorant  of 
his  plays,  and  in  children  whose  inclinations  and  training 
were  religious.  The  penitent  was  happy  in  his  house- 
hold, happy  also  in  his  reconciliation  with  Nicole  and 
Arnauld.  To  Boileau  he  remained  attached.  And  he 
did  not  renounce  the  court.  Was  not  the  King  the 
anointed  vicegerent  of  God,  who  could  not  be  too  much 
honoured  ?  He  accepted,  with  Boileau  as  fellow-labourer, 
15 


216  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

the  position  of  the  King's  historiographer,  and  endea- 
voured to  fulfil  its  duties. 

Twelve  years  after  his  withdrawal  from  the  theatre, 
Racine,  at  the  request  of  Madame  de  Maintenon,  com- 
posed his  Biblical  tragedy  of  Esther  (1688-89)  f°r  ner 
cherished  schoolgirls  at  Saint-Cyr.  The  subject  was  not 
unaptly  chosen — a  prudent  and  devout  Esther  now  helped 
to  guide  the  fortunes  of  France,  and  she  was  surrounded 
at  Saint-Cyr  by  her  chorus  of  young  daughters  of  Sion. 
Esther  was  rendered  by  the  pupils,  with  graceful  splen- 
dours, before  the  King,  and  the  delight  was  great.  The 
confidante  of  the  Persian  Queen  indeed  forgot  her  words  ; 
at  Racine's  hasty  complaint  the  young  actress  wept,  and 
the  poet,  weeping  with  her,  wiped  away  her  tears. 

Esther  is  a  melodious  play,  exquisite  in  its  refined  style 
and  delicate  versification  ;  but  the  characters  are  faintly 
drawn.  Its  novelty  lay  in  its  lyrical  movements  and  in 
the  poetical  uses  of  its  finely-imagined  spectacle.  Madame 
de  Maintenpn  or  her  directors  feared  that  the  excitement 
and  ambitions  of  another  play  in  costume  might  derange 
the  spirits  of  her  girls,  and  when  Athalie  was  recited  at 
Versailles,  in  January  1691,  it  was  little  of  an  event ;  the 
play  passed  almost  unnoticed.  A  noisy  reception,  indeed, 
would  have  been  no  fitting  tribute  to  its  solemn  beauty. 
All  Racine's  religious  feeling,  all  his  domestic  tenderness 
are  united  in  Athalie  with  his  matured  feeling  for  Greek 
art.  The  great  protagonist  is  the  Divine  Being  ;  Provi- 
dence replaces  the  fate  of  the  ancient  drama.  A  child 
(for  Racine  was  still  an  innovator  in  the  French  theatre) 
was  the  centre  of  the  action ;  the  interests  were  political, 
or  rather  national,  in  the  highest  sense ;  the  events  were, 
as  formerly,  the  developments  of  inward  character  ;  but 
events  and  characters  were  under  the  presiding  care  of 


ATHALIE  217 

God.  The  tragedy  is  lyrical,  not  merely  through  the 
chorus,  which  expresses  common  emotions  of  devout  joy 
and  fear,  indignation',  praise,  and  rapture.  The  chorus  is 
less  developed  here,  and  its  chants  are  less  impressive 
than  in  Esther.  There  is,  however,  a  lyrism,  personal 
and  modern,  in  the  prophetic  inspiration  of  the  High 
Priest,  and  Racine  anticipated  that  his  boldness  in  pre- 
senting this  might  be  censured  by  his  contemporaries. 
The  unity  of  place,  which  had  been  disregarded  in  Esther, 
is  here  preserved  ;  the  scene  is  the  temple  at  Jerusalem  ; 
and  by  its  impressive  grandeur,  and  the  awful  associations 
of  the  place,  the  spectacle  may  be  said  to  take  part  in  the 
action  of  the  play.  Perhaps  it  would  be  no  exaggera- 
tion to  assert  that  grandeur  and  beauty  are  nowhere  else 
so  united  in  French  dramatic  art  as  in  Athalie ;  perhaps 
it  might  truly  be  described  as  flawless  in  majesty  and 
grace. 

A  light  disfavour  of  the  King  saddened,  and  perhaps 
hastened,  the  close  of  Racine's  life.  Port-Royal  was 
regarded  as  a  centre  of  rebellious  heresy  ;  and  Racine's 
piety  to  his  early  masters  was  humble  and  devout.  He 
had  further  offended  by  drawing  up  a  memorandum  on 
the  sufferings  of  the  French  people  resulting  from  the 
wars.  Madame  de  Maintenon  assured  him  that  the  cloud 
would  pass ;  but  the  favour  of  death,  accepted  with 
tranquillity,  came  before  the  returning  favour  of  the 
poet's  master.  He  died  in  April  1699,  soon  after  he  had 
entered  his  sixtieth  year. 

The  highest  distinction  of  the  drama  of  Racine  is  its 
truth  to  nature — truth,  that  is,  in  its  interpretation  and 
rendering  of  human  passion.  Historical  accuracy  and 
local  colour  concerned  him  as  tar  as  they  were  needful 
with  his  courtly  spectators  for  verisimilitude.  The  flue- 


218  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

tuations  of  passion  he  studies  to  most  advantage  in  his 
characters  of  women.  Love,  in  all  its  varieties,  from  the 
passion  of  Roxane  or  Phedre  to  the  pure  devotion  of 
Berenice,  Iphigenie,  or  Monime  ;  maternal  tenderness 
or  the  tenderness  of  the  foster-mother  (Andromaque, 
Clytemnestre,  Josabeth) ;  female  ambition  (Agrippine, 
Athalie) — these  are  the  themes  of  his  exposition.  His 
style  has  been  justly  characterised  as  a  continual  crea- 
tion ;  its  audacity  underlies  its  suavity ;  its  miracles  are 
accomplished  with  the  simplest  means.  His  vocabulary 
is  singularly  small,  yet  with  such  a  vocabulary  he  can 
attain  the  rarest  effects.  From  sustained  dignity  he  can 
pass  suddenly,  when  the  need  arises,  to  the  most  direct 
familiarity.  The  music  of  his  verse  is  seldom  rich  or 
sonorous  ;  it  is  at  once  a  pure  vehicle  for  the  idea  and  a 
delicate  caress  to  the  senses. 


CHAPTER  VII 

BOSSUET  AND  THE  PREACHERS— FENELON 

I 

"A  MAN  set  under  authority" — these  words,  better  than 
any  other,  define  Bossuet.  Above  him  was  God,  repre- 
sented in  things  spiritual  by  the  Catholic  Church,  in 
things  temporal  by  the  French  monarchy ;  below  him 
were  the  faithful  confided  to  his  charge,  and  those  who 
would  lead  the  faithful  astray  from  the  path  of  obedi- 
ence and  tradition.  Duty  to  what  was  above  him,  duty 
to  those  placed  under  him,  made  up  the  whole  of 
Bossuet's  life. '  To  maintain,  to  defend,  to  -  extend  the 
tradition  he  had  received,  was  the  first  of  duties.  All 
his  powers  as  an  orator,  a  controversialist,  an  educator 
were  directed  to  this  object.  He  wrote  and  spoke  to 
dominate  the  intellects  of  men  and  to  subdue  their 
wills,  not  for  the  sake  of  personal  power,  but  for  the 
truth  as  he  had  received  it  from  the  Church  and  from 
the  monarchy. 

JACQUES  -  BENIGNE  BOSSUET  was  born  in  1627,  at 
Dijon,  of  a  middle-class  family,  distinguished  in  the 
magistracy.  In  his  education,  pursued  with  resolute 
ardour,  the  two  traditions  of  Hellenism  and  Hebraism 
were  fused  together  :  Homer  and  Virgil  were  much  to 

him ;  but  the  Bible,  above  all,  nourished  his  imagination, 

219 


220  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

his  conscience,  and  his  will.  The  celebrity  of  his  scholar- 
ship and  the  flatteries  of  Parisian  salons  did  not  divert 
him  from  his  course.  At  twenty-five  he  was  a  priest 
and  a  doctor  of  the  Sorbonne.  Six  years  were  spent 
at  Metz,  a  city  afflicted  by  the  presence  of  Protestants 
and  Jews,  where  Bossuet  fortified  himself  with  theo- 
logical studies,  preached,  panegyrised  the  saints,  and 
confuted  heretics.  His  fame  drew  him  to  Paris,  where, 
during  ten  years,  his  sermons  were  among  the  great 
events  of  the  time.  In  1669  he  was  named  Bishop  of 
Condom,  but,  being  appointed  preceptor  to  the  Dauphin, 
he  resigned  his  bishopric,  and  devoted  himself  to  form- 
ing the  mind  of  a  pupil,  indolent  and  dull,  who  might 
one  day  be  the  vicegerent  of  God  for  his  country. 
Bishop  of  Meaux  in  1681,  he  opened  the  assembly  of 
French  clergy  next  year  with  his  memorable  sermon 
on  the  unity  of  the  Church,  and  by  his  authority  carried, 
in  a  form  decisive  for  freedom  while  respectful  towards 
Rome,  the  four  articles  which  formulated  the  liberties 
of  the  Gallican  Church.  The  duties  of  his  diocese, 
controversy  against  Protestantism,  the  controversy 
against  Quietism,  in  which  Fenelon  was  his  antagonist, 
devotional  writings,  strictures  upon  the  stage,  contro- 
versy against  the  enlightened  Biblical  criticism  of 
Richard  Simon,  filled  his  energetic  elder  years.  He 
ceased  from  a  life  of  glorious  labour  and  resolute 
combat  in  April  1704. 

The  works  of  Bossuet,  setting  aside  his  commentaries 
on  Holy  Scripture,  devotional  treatises,  and  letters,  fall 
into  three  chief  groups  :  the  eloquence  of  the  pulpit, 
controversial  writings,  and  writings  designed  for  the 
instruction  of  the  Dauphin. 

Political  eloquence  could  not  exist  where  power  was 


BOSSUET'S  SERMONS  221 

grasped  by  the  hands  of  one  great  ruler.  Judicial  elo- 
quence lacked  the  breadth  and  elevation  which  come 
with  political  freedom  ;  it  contented  itself  with  subtleties 
of  argument,  decked  with  artificial  flowers  of  style.  The 
pulpit  was  the  school  of  oratory.  St.  Vincent  de  Paul 
had  preached  with  unction  and  a  grave  simplicity,  and 
Bossuet,  his  disciple,  felt  his  influence.  But  the  offering 
which  Bossuet  laid  upon  the  altar  must  needs  be  costly, 
an  offering  of  all  his  powers.  While  an  unalterable  good 
sense  regulates  all  he  wrote,  the  sweep  of  his  intellect 
demanded  plenitude  of  expression  ;  his  imagination,  if  it 
dealt  with  life  and  death,  must  needs  deal  with  them  at 
times  in  the  way  of  magnificence,  which  was  natural  to 
it ;  and  his  lyrical  enthusiasm,  fed  by  the  prophetic 
poetry  of  the  Old  Testament,  could  not  but  find  an 
escape  in  words.  He  sought  no  literary  fame  ;  his  ser- 
mons were  acts  of  faith,  acts  of  duty.  Out  of  the  vast 
mass  of  his  discourses  he  printed  one,  a  sermon  of  public 
importance — that  on  the  unity  of  the  Church. 

At  the  request  of  friends,  some  of  the  Funeral  Orations 
were  published.  These,  with  his  address  on  the  profes- 
sion of  Louise  de  La  Valliere,  were  all  that  could  be 
read  of  Bossuet's  pulpit  oratory  by  his  contemporaries. 
His  sermons  were  carefully  meditated  and  prepared,  but 
he  would  not  check  his  power  of  lofty  improvisation  by 
following  the  words  of  a  manuscript.  After  his  death  his 
papers  had  perilous  adventures.  By  the  devotion  of  his 
first  editor,  Deforis,  nearly  two  hundred  sermons  were 
after  many  years  recovered ;  later  students  have  presented 
them  with  as  close  an  approximation  as  is  possible  to 
their  original  form.  Bossuet's  first  manner  —  that  of 
the  years  at  Metz  —  is  sometimes  marred  by  scholastic 
subtleties,  a  pomp  of  quotations,  too  curious  imagery, 


222  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

and  a  temper  rather  aggressive  than  conciliating.  During 
the  period  when  he  preached  in  Paris  he  was  master  of 
all  his  powers,  which  move  with  freedom  and  at  the 
same  time  with  a  majestic  order ;  his  grandeur  grows 
out  of  simplicity.  As  Bishop  of  Meaux  he  exhorted  his 
flock  out  of  the  abundance  of  his  heart,  often  without  the 
intermediary  of  written  preparation. 

He  is  primarily  a  doctor  of  the  faith  :  dogma  first,  de- 
termined by  authority,  and  commending  itself  to  human 
reason  ;  morality,  not  independent,  but  proceeding  from 
or  connected  with  dogma,  and  while  truly  human  yet 
resting  upon  divine  foundations.  But  neither  dogma 
nor  morals  are  presented  in  the  manner  of  the  schools  ; 
both  are  made  living  powers  by  the  preacher's  awe, 
adoration,  joy,  charity,  indignation,  pity  ;  in  the  large 
ordonnance  of  his  discourse  each  passion  finds  its 
natural  place.  His  eloquence  grows  out  of  his  theme  ; 
his  logic  is  the  logic  of  clear  and  natural  ideas  ;  he  is 
lucid,  rapid,  energetic  ;  then  suddenly  some  aspect  of 
his  subject  awakens  a  lyrical  emotion,  and  the  preacher 
rises  into  the  prophet. 

Bossuet's  panegyrics  of  the  saints  are  sermons  in 
which  doctrine  and  morals  are  enforced  by  great 
examples.  His  Oraisons  Funebres  preach,  for  the  uses  of 
the  living,  the  doctrine  of  death.  Nowhere  else  does  he 
so  fill  the  mind  with  a  sense  of  the  greatness  and  the 
glory  of  life  as  when  he  stands  beside  the  bier  and  re- 
views the  achievements  or  presents  the  characters  of  the 
illustrious  deceased.  Observing  as  he  did  all  the  decorum 
of  the  occasion,  his  discourses  do  not  degenerate  into 
mere  adulation  ;  some  are  historic  surveys,  magnificent 
in  their  breadth  of  view  and  mastery  of  events.  He  pre- 
sents things  as  he  saw  them,  and  he  did  not  always  see 


BOSSUET  IN   CONTROVERSY  223 

aright.  Cromwell  is  a  hypocrite  and  an  impostor  ;  the 
revocation  of  the  edict  of  Nantes  is  the  laudable  act  of  a 
king  who  is  a  defender  of  the  faith.  The  intolerance  of 
Bossuet  proceeds  not  so  much  from  his  heart  as  from 
the  logic  of  his  orthodoxy.  His  heart  had  a  tender- 
ness which  breaks  forth  in  many  places,  and  signally  in 
the  discourse  occasioned  by  the  death  of  the  Duchess 
of  Orleans.  This,  and  the  eloquent  memorials  of  her 
mother,  Henrietta,  Queen  of  England,  and  of  the  Prince 
de  Conde,  touch  the  heights  and  depths  of  the  passions 
proper  to  the  grave. 

Bossuet's  polemic  against  Protestantism  is  sufficiently 
represented  by  his  Exposition  de  la  Doctrine  Catholique 
(published  1671)  and  the  Histoire  des  Variations  des  Eglises 
Protestantes  (1688).  The  latter,  in  its  fifteen  books,  is  an 
attempt  to  overwhelm  the  contending  Protestant  com- 
munions by  one  irresistible  attack.  Their  diversities  of 
error  are  contrasted  with  the  one,  unchanging  faith  of 
the  infallible  Church.  Lutherans,  Calvinists,  Anglicans, 
the  Albigenses,  the  Hussites,  the  Wicliffites  are  routed 
and  slain,  as  opponents  are  slain  in  theological  warfare 
—to  rise  again.  History  and  theology  co-operate  in 
the  result.  The  characters  of  the  Protestant  Reformers 
are  studied  with  a  remorseless  scrutiny,  and  an  art 
which  can  bri'ng  into  relief  what  the  work  of  art  re- 
quires. Why  the  children  of  the  infallible  Church 
rose  up  in  disobedience  against  their  mother  is  left  un- 
explained. The  great  heresy,  Bossuet  was  persuaded, 
had  almost  reached  its  term ;  the  intellectual  chaos 
would  soon  be  restored  to  universal  order  under  the 
successors  of  Innocent  XI. 

In  the  embittered  controversy  with  his  brother-Bishop 
of  Cambrai,  on  the  significance  of  which  the  singular 


224  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

autobiography  of  Madame  Guyon1  throws  much  light, 
Bossuet  remained  the  victor.  It  was  a  contention 
between  dogmatic  rectitude  and  the  temper  of  emo- 
tional religion.  Bossuet  was  at  first  unversed  in  the 
writings  of  the  Catholic  mystics.  Being  himself  a  fully- 
formed  will,  watchful  and  armed  for  obedience  and 
command — the  "man  under  authority" — he  rightly 
divined  the  dangers  to  dogmatic  faith  arising  from  self- 
abandonment  to  God  within  the  heart.  The  elaborate 
structure  of  orthodoxy  seemed  to  dissolve  in  the  ardour 
of  a  personal  emotion ;  it  seemed  to  him  another  form 
of  the  individualism  which  he  condemned.  The  Church 
was  a  great  objective  reality ;  it  had  laid  down  a  system 
of  belief.  A  love  of  God  which  ignored  the  method  of 
God,  was  but  a  spurious  love,  leading  to  destruction. 

Protestant  self-will,  mystical  private  emotion — these 
were  in  turn  met  by  the  champion  of  tradition,  and,  as 
he  trusted,  were  subdued.  Another  danger  he  perceived, 
not  in  the  unregenerate  will  or  wandering  heart,  but  in 
the  critical  intelligence.  Bossuet  again  was  right  in  view- 
ing with  alarm  the  Biblical  studies  of  Richard  Simon. 
But  his  scholarship  was  here  defective.  He  succeeded 
in  suppressing  an  edition  of  the  Histoire  Critique  du  Vieux 
Testament.  There  were  printers  in  Holland  beyond  the 
reach  of  Bossuet's  arm  ;  and  Simon  continued  the  work 
which  others  have  carried  further  with  the  aids  of  more 
exact  science. 

To  doubt  the  government  of  His  wrorld  by  the  Divine 
Ruler,  who  assigns  us  our  duty  and  our  place,  is  to 
sap  the  principles  of  authority  and  of  obedience.  The 
doctrine  of  God's  providence  is  at  the  centre  of  all 
Bossuet's  system  of  thought,  at  the  heart  of  his  loyal 

1  Translated  into  English  for  the  first  time  in  full,  1897,  by  T.  T.  Allen. 


BOSSUET  ON   UNIVERSAL  HISTORY       225 

passions.  On  earth,  the  powers  that  be  ;  in  France, 
the  monarch  ;  in  heaven,  a  greater  Monarch  (we  will 
not  say  a  magnified  Louis  XIV.)  presiding  over  all  the 
affairs  of  this  globe.  When  Bossuet  tried  to  educate 
his  indocile  pupil  the  Dauphin,  he  taught  him  how  God 
is  above  man,  as  man  is  above  the  brute.  Monarchy — 
as  he  showed  in  his  Politique  Tiree  de  FEcriture  Sainte — is 
hereditary  and  absolute ;  but  absolute  power  is  not  arbi- 
trary power ;  the  King  is  God's  subject,  and  his  laws 
must  conform  to  those  of  his  Divine  Ruler.  The  Discours 
sur  FHistoire  Universelle  (1681)  was  written  in  the  first 
instance  for  the  Dauphin  ;  but  its  purpose  was  partly 
apologetic,  and  Bossuet,  especially  in  the  second  part 
of  the  book,  had  the  errors  of  free-thinkers — Spinoza 
and  Simon — before  his  mind. 

The  seventeenth  century  had  not  contributed  largely 
to  historical  literature,  save  in  the  form  of  memoirs. 
Mezeray,  in  the  first  half  of  the  century,  Fleury,  in  the 
second,  cannct  be  ranked  among  those  writers  who 
illuminate  with  profound  and  just  ideas.  The  Cartesian 
philosophy  viewed  historical  studies  with  haughty  in- 
difference. B:s:u3t's  Discours  is  a  vindication  of  the 
ways  of  God  in  history,  a  theology  of  human  progress. 
He  would  exhibit  the  nations  and  generations  of 
human-kind  bound  each  to  each  under  the  Providen- 
tial government.  The  life  of  humanity,  from  Adam 
to  Charlemagne,  is  mapped  into  epochs,  ages,  periods — 
the  periods  of  nature,  of  the  law,  and  of  grace.  In 
religion  is  found  the  unity  of  human  history.  By  reli- 
gion is  meant  Judaism  and  Christianity;  by  Christianity 
is  meant  the  Catholicism  of  Rome. 

Having  expounded  the  Divine  policy  in  the  govern- 
ment of  the  world,  Bossuet  is  free  to  study  those 


226  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

secondary  causes  which  have  determined  the  rise  and 
fall  of  empires.  With  magisterial  authority,  and  with 
majestic  skill,  he  presents  the  movements  of  races  and 
peoples.  His  sympathy  with  the  genius  of  ancient 
Rome  proceeds  not  only  from  his  comprehensive  grasp 
of  facts,  but  from  a  kinship  between  his  own  and  the 
Roman  type  of  character.  The  magnificent  design  of 
Bossuet  was  magnificently  accomplished.  He  hoped 
to  extend  his  studies,  and  apply  his  method  to  other 
parts  of  his  vast  subject,  but  the  hope  was  not  to  be 
fulfilled.  A  disinterested  student  of  the  philosophy  of 
history  he  is  not ;  he  is  the  theologian  who  marshals 
facts  under  an  accepted  dogma.  A  conception  of  Pro- 
vidence may  indeed  emerge  from  the  researches  of  a 
devout  investigator  of  the  life  of  humanity  as  their  last 
result;  but  towards  that  conception  the  secular  life  and 
the  various  religions  of  the  world  will  contribute  ;  the 
ways  of  the  Divine  Spirit  will  appear  other  than  those 
of  the  anthropomorphic  Ruler  of  Bossuet's  imagination. 
He  was  not  an  original  thinker  ;  he  would  have  scorned 
such  a  distinction  — "  1'heretique  est  celui  qui  a  une 
opinion "  ;  he  had  received  the  truth,  and  only  gave 
it  extended  applications.  He  is  "le  sublime  orateur  des 
idees  communes." 

More  than  an  orator,  before  all  else  he  was  a  com- 
batant. Falling  at  his  post  as  the  eighteenth  century 
opened,  he  is  like  some  majestic,  white-haired  paladin 
of  old  romances  which  tell  of  the  strife  between  French 
chivalry  and  the  Saracenic  hordes.  Bossuet  fell ;  the 
age  of  growing  incredulity  and  novel  faiths  was  in- 
augurated ;  the  infidels  passed  over  the  body  of  the 
champion  of  conservative  tradition. 


BOURDALOUE  227 


II 

Bossuet's  contemporaries  esteemed  him  as  a  preacher 
less  highly  than  they  esteemed  the  Jesuit  Bourdaloue. 
The  life  of  Louis  BOURDALOUE  (1632-1704)  is  told  in 
the  words  of  Vinet  :  "  He  preached,  confessed,  consoled, 
and  then  he  died."  It  does  credit  to  his  hearers  that 
they  valued  him  aright — a  modest  man  of  simple  probity. 
He  spoke,  with  downcast  eyes  and  full  harmonious  voice, 
as  a  soul  to  souls ;  his  eloquence  was  not  that  of  the 
rhetorician  ;  his  words  were  grave  and  plain  and  living, 
and  were  pressed  home  with  the  force  of  their  reality. 
He  aimed  never  at  display,  but  always  at  conviction. 
When  the  crowd  at  St.  Sulpice  was  moved  as  he 
entered  the  church  and  ascended  the  pulpit,  "  Silence  ! " 
cried  the  Prince  de  Conde,  "  there  is  our  enemy  ! " 
Bourdaloue  marshalled  his  arguments  and  expositions 
with  the  elaborate  skill  of  a  tactician  ;  he  sought  to 
capture  the  judgment ;  he  reached  the  heart  through  a 
wise  director's  knowledge  of  its  inmost  processes.  When 
his  words  were  touched  with  emotion,  it  was  the  in- 
voluntary manifestation  of  the  life  within  him.  His 
studies  of  character  sometimes  tended  to  the  form  of 
portraits  of  moral  types,  features  in  which  could  be 
identified  with  actual  persons ;  but  in  these  he  was 
the  moralist,  not  the  satirist.  During,  four-and-thirty 
years  Bourdaloue  distributed,  to  those  who  would  take 
it,  the  bread  of  life — plain,  wholesome,  prepared  skilfully 
and  with  clean  hands,  never  varying  from  the  evenness 
and  excellence  of  its  quality.  He  does  not  startle  or 
dazzle  a  reader  ;  he  does  what  is  better — he  nourishes. 

Bourdaloue  pronounced  only  two  Oraisons.  Funebres, 


228  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

and  those  under  the  constraint  of  duty.  He  thought 
the  Christian  pulpit  was  meant  for  less  worldly  uses 
than  the  eulogy  of  mortal  men.  The  Oraison  Funebre 
was  more  to  the  taste  of  Mascaron  (1634-1703),  whose 
unequal  rhetoric  was  at  its  best  in  his  panegyric  of 
Turenne;  more  to  the  taste  of  the  elegant  FLECHIER, 
Bishop  of  Nimes.  All  the  literary  graces  were  cultivated 
by  Flechier  (1632-1710),  and  his  eloquence  is  unquestion- 
able ;  but  it  was  not  the  eloquence  proper  to  the  pulpit. 
He  was  a  man  of  letters,  a  man  of  the  world,  formed 
in  the  school  of  preciosity,  a  haunter  of  the  Hotel  de 
Rambouillet  ;  knowing  the  surface  of  society,  he  knew 
as  a  moralist  how  to  depict  its  manners  and  the  evil 
that  lay  in  them.  He  did  not  apply  doctrine  to  life 
like  Bossuet,  nor  search  the  heart  with  Bourdaloue's 
serious  zeal ;  to  save  souls  was  indeed  important ;  to 
exhibit  his  talents  before  the  King  was  also  important. 
But  the  true  eloquence  of  the  pulpit  has  deeper  springs 
than  lay  in  Flechier's  mundane  spirit.  Already  the 
decadence  has  begun. 

Protestantism  had  its  preacher  in  JACQUES  SAURIN 
(1677-1730),  clear,  logical,  energetic,  with  negligences 
of  style  and  sudden  flashes  of  genius.  But  he  belongs 
to  London,  to  Geneva,  to  the  Hague  more  perhaps  than 
to  France.  An  autumnal  colouring,  bright  and  abund- 
ant, yet  indicative  of  the  decline,  is  displayed  in  the 
discourses  of  the  latest  of  the  great  pulpit  orators,  JEAN- 
BAPTISTE  MASSILLON  (1663-1742),  who  belongs  more 
to  the  eighteenth  than  to  the  seventeenth  century. 
"  He  must  increase,"  said  Bourdaloue,  "  but  I  must 
decrease."  Massillon,  with  gifts  of  person  and  of  natural 
grace,  sensitive,  tender,  a  student  and  professor  of  the 
rhetorical  art,  sincerely  devout,  yet  with  waverings 


MASSILLON  229 

towards  the  world,  had  something  in  his  genius  that 
resembled  Racine.  A  pathetic  sentiment,  a  feeling  for 
human  passions,  give  his  sermons  qualities  which  con- 
trast with  the  severer  manner  of  Bourdaloue.  They 
are  simple  in  plan  ;  the  preacher's  art  lay  in  deploying 
and  developing  a  few  ideas,  and  infusing  into  them  an 
imaginative  sensibility  ;  he  is  facile  and  abundant ;  fault- 
less in  amenity,  but  deficient  in  force  and  fire.  Yet  the 
opening  words  of  the  Funeral  Oration  on  Louis  XIV. — 
"  God  alone  is  great,  my  brethren  " — are  noble  in  their 
simplicity;  and  the  thought  of  Jesus  suddenly  appearing 
in  "the  most  august  assembly  of  the  world" — in  the 
chapel  at  Versailles — startled  the  hearers  of  the  sermon 
on  the  "  small  number  of  the  elect."  "  There  is  an 
orator !"  cried  the  actor  Baron,  "we  are  only  comedians;" 
but  no  actor  would  have  instituted  a  comparison  between 
himself  and  Bourdaloue.  "  When  one  enters  the  avenue 
at  Versailles,"  said  Massillon,  "one  feels  an  enervating  air." 
He  was  aware  of  the  rising  tide  of  luxury  and  vice 
around  him  ;  he  tried  to  meet  it,  tracing  the  scepticism 
of  the  time  to  its  ill-regulated  passions;  but  he  met 
scepticism  by  morality  detached  from  dogma.  The 
Petit  Careme,  preached  before  Louis  XV.  when  a  child 
of  eight,  expresses  the  sanguine  temper  of  the  moment : 
the  young  King  would  grow  into  the  father  of  his  people ; 
the  days  of  peace  would  return.  Great  and  beneficent 
kings  are  not  effeminately  amiable  ;  it  were  better  if 
Massillon  had  preached  "  Be  strong  "  than  "  Be  tender." 
Voltaire  kept  on  his  desk  the  sermons  of  Massillon,  and 
loved  to  hear  the  musical  periods  of  the  Petit  Careme 
read  aloud  at  meal-time.  To  be  the  favourite  preacher 
of  eighteenth-century  philosophers  is  a  distinction  some- 
what compromising  to  an  exponent  of  the  faith.. 


230  FRENCH  LITERATURE 


III 

Bossuet's  great  antagonist  in  the  controversy  con- 
cerning Quietism  might  have  found  the  approval  of 
the  philosophers  for  some  of  his  political  opinions. 
His  religious  writings  would  have  spoken  to  them  in 
an  unknown  tongue. 

FRANCOIS  DE  SALIGNAC  DE  LA  MOTHE-FENELON  was 
born  in  Perigord  (1651),  of  an  ancient  and  illustrious 
family.  Of  one  whose  intellect  and  character  were  in- 
finitely subtle  and  complex,  the  blending  of  all  opposites, 
it  is  possible  to  sustain  the  most  conflicting  opinions, 
and  perhaps  in  the  end  no  critic  can  seize  this  Proteus. 
Saint-Simon  noticed  how  in  his  noble  countenance  every 
contrary  quality  was  expressed,  and  how  all  were  har- 
monised :  "  II  fallait  faire  effort  pour  cesser  de  le  re- 
garder."  During  the  early  years  of  his  clerical  career 
he  acted  as  superior  to  female  converts  from  Pro- 
testantism, and  as  missionary  among  the  unconverted 
Calvinists.  In  1689  he  was  appointed  tutor  to  the  King's 
grandson,  the  Due  de  Bourgogne,  and  from  a  passionate 
boy  he  transformed  his  pupil  into  a  youth  too  blindly 
docile.  Fenelon's  nomination  to  the  Archbishopric  of 
Cambrai  (1695),  which  removed  him  from  the  court,  was 
in  fact  a  check  to  his  ambition.  His  religious  and  his 
political  views  were  regarded  by  Louis  XIV.  as  dangerous 
for  the  Church  and  the  monarchy. 

Through  his  personal  interest  in  Mine.  Guyon,  and 
his  sympathy  with  her  mystical  doctrine  in  religion — 
one  which  inculcated  complete  abnegation  of  the  will, 
and  its  replacement  by  absolute  surrender  to  the  Divine 
love — he  came  into  conflict  with  Bossuet,  and  after  a 


FENELON  231 

fierce  war  of  diplomacy  and  of  pamphlets,  in  which 
Fenelon  displayed  the  utmost  skill  and  energy  as  tac- 
tician and  dialectician,  he  received  a  temperate  con- 
demnation from  Rome,  and  submitted.  The  death  of 
the  Dauphin  (1711),  which  left  his  former  pupil  heir 
to  the  throne,  revived  Fenelon's  hopes  of  political  in- 
fluence, but  in  the  next  year  these  hopes  disappeared 
with  the  decease  of  the  young  Due  de  Bourgogne.  At 
Cambrai,  where  he  discharged  his  episcopal  duties  like 
a  saint  and  a  grand  seigneur,  Fenelon  died  six  months 
before  Louis  XIV.,  in  1715. 

1  "The  most  original  intellect — if  we  set  Pascal  aside — 
of  the  seventeenth  century" — so  Fenelon  is  described 
by  one  excellent  critic.  "  Antique  and  modern,"  writes 
his  biographer,  M.  Paul  Janet,  "Christian  and  profane, 
mystical  and  diplomatic,  familiar  and  noble,  gentle  and 
headstrong,  natural  and  subtle,  fascinating  the  eighteenth 
century  as  he  had  fascinated  the  seventeenth,  believing 
like  a  child,  and  daring  as  Spinoza,  Fenelon  is  one  of 
the  most  original  figures  which  the  Catholic  Church 
has  produced."  His  first  publication  was  the  treatise 
De  I' Education  des  Filles  (written  1681,  published  1687), 
composed  at  the  request  of  his  friends  the  Due  and 
Duchesse  de  Beauvilliers.  It  is  based  on  a  recognition 
of  the  dignity  of  woman  and  the  duty  of  a  serious  effort 
to  form  her  mind.  It  honours  the  reason,  opposes 
severity,  would  make  instruction,  as  far  as  possible,  a 
delight,  and  would  exhibit  goodness  in  a  gracious  aspect ; 
commends  object-lessons  in  addition  to  book-learning, 
indicates  characteristic  feminine  failings  (yet  liveliness 
of  disposition  is  not  regarded  as  one  of  these),  exhorts 
to  a  dignified  simplicity  in  dress.  The  range  of  studies 

recommended  is  narrow,  but  for  Fenelon's  time  it  was 
16 


232  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

liberal ;  the  book  marks  an  epoch  in  the  history  of 
female  education. 

For  his  pupil  the  Due  de  Bourgogne,  Fenelon  wrote 
his  graceful  prose  Fables  (which  also  include  under  that 
title  short  tales,  allegories,  and  fairy  stories),  the  Dialogues 
des  Morts,  aiming  at  the  application  of  moral  principles 
to  politics,  and  his  Telemaque,  named  in  the  first  (incom- 
plete) edition  Suite  du  IVe  Livre  de  I'Odyssee  (1699).  In 
this,  for  long  the  most  popular  of  tales  for  the  young, 
Fenelon's  imaginative  devotion  to  antiquity  finds  ample 
expression  ;  it  narrates  the  wanderings  of  Telemachus  in 
search  of  his  father  Ulysses,  under  the  warning  guid- 
ance and  guardianship  of  Minerva  disguised  as  Mentor. 
Imitations  and  borrowings  from  classical  authors  are 
freely  and  skilfully  made.  It  is  a  poem  in  prose,  a 
romance  of  education,  designed  at  once  to  charm  the 
imagination  and  to  inculcate  truths  of  morals,  politics, 
and  religion.  The  didactic  purpose  is  evident,  yet  it 
remains  a  true  work  of  art,  full  of  grace  and  colour, 
occasionally,  indeed,  languid,  but  often  vivid  '  and 
forcible. 

Fenelon's  views  on  politics  were  not  so  much  fantastic 
as  those  of  an  idealist.  He  dreamed  of  a  monarchy 
which  should  submit  to  the  control  of  righteousness  ; 
he  mourned  over  the  pride  and  extravagance  of  the 
court ;  he  constantly  pleaded  against  wars  of  ambition  ; 
he  desired  that  a  powerful  and  Christian  nobility  should 
mediate  between  the  crown  and  the  people  ;  he  con- 
ceived a  system  of  decentralisation  which  should  give 
the  whole  nation  an  interest  in  public  affairs ;  in  his 
ecclesiastical  views  he  was  Ultramontane  rather  than 
Gallican.  These  ideas  are  put  forth  in  his  Direction  pour 
la  Conscience  dun  Rot  and  the  Plan  de  Gouvernement. 


FENELON  233 

Louis  XIV.  suspected  the  political  tendency  of  Tele- 
maque,  and  caused  the  printing  of  the  first  edition  to 
be  suspended.  Fenelon  has  sometimes  been  regarded 
as  a  forerunner  of  the  Revolutionary  movement ;  but 
he  would  rather,  by  ideas  in  which,  as  events  proved, 
there  may  have  been  something  chimerical,  have  ren- 
dered revolution  impossible. 

Into  his  controversy  with  Bossuet  he  threw  himself 
with  a  combative  energy  and  a  skill  in  defence  and 
attack  that  surprise  one  who  knows  him,  only  through 
his  Lettres  Spirituelles,  which  tend  towards  the  efface- 
ment  of  the  will  in  a  union  with  God  through  love. 
Bossuet  pleaded  against  the  dangers  for  morals  and  for 
theology  of  a  false  mysticism  ;  Fenelon,  against  con- 
founding true  mysticism  with  what  is  false.  In  his 
Traite  de  I  Existence  de  Dieu  he  shows  himself  a  bold 
and  subtle  thinker  :  the  first  part,  which  is  of  a  popular 
character,  attempts  to  prove  the  existence  of  the  Deity 
by  the  argument  from  design  in  nature  and  from  the 
reason  in  man ;  the  second  part  —  of  a  later  date  — 
follows  Descartes  in  metaphysical  proofs  derived  from 
our  idea  of  an  infinite  and  a  perfect  being.  To  his 
other  distinctions  Fenelon  added  that  of  a  literary  critic, 
unsurpassed  in  his  time,  unless  it  be  by  Boileau.  His 
Dialogues  sur  I'Eloquence  seek  to  replace  the  elaborate 
methods  of  logical  address,  crowded  with  divisions  and 
subdivisions,  and  supported  with  a  multitude  of  quota- 
tions, by  a  style  simple,  natural,  and  delicate  in  its 
fervency. 

The  admirable  Lettre  a  F  Academic,  Fenelon's  latest 
gift  to  literature,  states  the  case  of  the  ancients  against 
the  moderns,  and  of  the  moderns  against  the  ancients, 
with  an  attempt  at  impartiality,  but  it  is  evident  that  the 


234  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

writer's  love  was  chiefly  given  to  his  favourite  classical 
authors  ;  simplicity  and  natural  beauty  attracted  him 
more  than  ingenuity  or  wit  or  laboured  brilliance.  He 
feared  that  the  language  was  losing  some  of  its  richness 
and  flexibility  ;  he  condemns  the  use  of  rhyme  ;  he  is 
hardly  just  to  Racine,  but  honours  himself  by  his  ad- 
miration of  Moliere.  In  dealing  with  historical  writings 
he  recognises  the  importance  of  the  study  of  govern- 
ments, institutions,  and  social  life,  and  at  the  same  time 
values  highly  a  personal,  vivid,  direct  manner,  and  a 
feeling  for  all  that  is  real,  concrete,  and  living.  To  his 
rare  gifts  of  intellect  and  of  the  soul  was  added  an 
inexpressible  personal  charm,  in  which  something  that 
was  almost  feminine  was  united  with  the  reserved  power 
and  authority  of  a  man. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

TRANSITION  TO  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY 

THE  spiritual  life  was  interpreted  from  within  by  Fenelon. 
The  facts  of  the  moral  world,  as  seen  in  society,  were 
studied,  analysed,  and  portrayed  by  La  Bruyere  and 
Saint-Simon. 

JEAN  DE  LA  BRUYERE  (1645-96),  a  Parisian  of  the 
bourgeoisie,  appointed  preceptor  in  history  to  the  grand- 
son of  the  great  Conde,  saw  with  the  keen  eyes  of 
a  disenchanted  observer  the  spectacle  of  seventeenth- 
century  society.  In  1688,  appended  to  his  translation 
of  the  Characters  of  Theophrastus,  appeared  his  only 
important  work,  Les  Caracteres  ou  les  Mceurs  de  ce 
Siecle;  revised  and  enlarged  editions  followed,  until 
the  ninth  was  published  in  1696.  "I  restore  to  the 
public,"  he  wrote,  "what  the  public  lent  me."  In  a 
series  of  sixteen  chapters,  each  consisting  of  detached 
paragraphs,  his  studies  of  human  life  and  of  the  social 
environment  are  presented  in  the  form  of  maxims,  reflec- 
tions, observations,  portraits.  For  the  maxims  a  recent 
model  lay  before  him  in  the  little  volume  of  La  Roche- 
foucauld ;  portraits,  for  which  the  romances  of  Mdlle. 
de  Scudery  had  created  a  taste,  had  been  exhibited  in  a 
collection  formed  by  Mdlle.  de  Montpensier — the  growth 
of  her  salon — in  collaboration  with  Segrais  {Divers  Por- 
traits, 1659).  Aware  of  his  mastery  as  a  painter  of 


236  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

character,  La  Bruyere  added  largely  to  the  number  of 
his  portraits  in  the  later  editions.  Keys,  professing  to 
identify  his  character-sketches  with  living  persons,  en- 
hanced the  interest  excited  by  the  work  ;  but  in  many 
instances  La  Bruyere  aims  at  presenting  a  type  rather 
than  an  individual,  a  type  which  had  been  individualised 
by  his  observation  of  actual  persons. 

A  profound  or  an  original  thinker  he  was  not.  In- 
capable of  employing  base  means  to  attain  worldly  suc- 
cess, his  honourable  failure  left  a  certain  bitterness  in 
his  spirit ;  he  regarded  the  life  around  him  as  a  looker- 
on,  who  enjoyed  the  spectacle,  and  enjoyed  also  to  note 
the  infirmities  of  those  who  took  part  in  the  game  which 
he  had  declined.  He  is  neither  a  determined  pessimist, 
nor  did  he  see  realities  through  a  roseate  veil;  he  neither 
thinks  basely  of  human  nature  nor  in  a  heroic  fashion  : 
he  studies  its  weakness  with  a  view,  he  declares,  to  refor- 
mation, but  actually,  perhaps,  more  in  the  way  of  an 
observer  than  of  a  moral  teacher.  He  is  before  all 
else  a  "naturalist,"  a  naturalist  with  a  sufficient  field 
for  investigation,  though  the  life  of  the  provinces  and 
that  of  the  fields  (save  in  their  more  obvious  aspect 
of  mournful  toil)  lie  beyond  his  sphere.  The  value  of 
his  criticisms  of  men  and  manners  arises  partly  from 
the  fact  that  he  is  not  pledged  to  a  system,  that  he 
can  take  up  various  points  of  view,  and  express  the 
results  of  many  moods  of  mind.  Now  he  is  severe, 
and  again  he  is  indulgent ;  now  he  appears  almost  a 
cynic,  and  presently  we  find  that  his  heart  is  tender ; 
now  he  is  grave,  and  in  a  moment  mirthful ;  while 
for  every  purpose  and  in  every  mood  he  has  irony  at 
his  command.  He  divines  the  working  of  the  passions 
with  a  fine  intelligence,  and  is  a  master  in  noting  every 


LA  BRUYERE  237 

outward  betrayal  or  indication  of  the  hidden  processes 
of  the  heart. 

The  successive  chapters  deal  with  the  intellect  and 
authorship,  personal  merit,  women,  the  heart,  society 
and  conversation,  the  gifts  of  fortune,  the  town,  the 
court,  men  in  high  station,  the  King  and  commonwealth, 
the  nature  of  man,  judgments  and  criticism,  fashion, 
customs,  the  pulpit ;  and  under  each  head  are  grouped, 
without  formal  system,  those  notes  on  life  and  studies 
of  society  that  had  gradually  accumulated  in  the  author's 
mind.  A  final  chapter,  "Des  Esprits  Forts,"  expresses 
a  vague  spiritual  philosophy,  which  probably  was  not 
insincere,  and  which  at  least  served  to  commend  the 
mundane  portion  of  his  book  to  pious  readers.  The 
special  attraction  of  the  whole  lies  in  its  variety.  A 
volume  merely  of  maxims  would  have  been  too  rigid, 
too  oracular  for  such  a  versatile  spirit  as  that  of  La 
Bruyere.  "  Different  things,"  he  says,  "  are  thought 
out  by  different  methods,  and  explained  by  diverse 
expressions,  it  may  be  by  a  sentence,  an  argument, 
a  metaphor  or  some  other  figure,  a  parallel,  a  simple 
comparison,  a  complete  fact,  a  single  feature,  by 
description,  or  by  portraiture."  His  book  contains 
all  these,  and  his  style  corresponds  with  the  variety 
of  matter  and  method  —  a  style,  as  Voltaire  justly 
characterises  it,  rapid,  concise,  nervous,  picturesque. 
"Among  all  the  different  modes  in  which  a  single 
thought  may  be  expressed,"  wrote  La  Bruyere,  "  only 
one  is  correct."  To  find  this  exact  expression  he 
sometimes  over -labours  his  style,  and  searches  the 
vocabulary  too  curiously  for  the  most  striking  word. 
In  his  desire  for  animation  the  periodic  structure  of 
sentence  yields  to  one  of  interruptions,  suspensions,  and 


238  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

surprises.  He  is  at  once  a  moralist  and  a  virtuoso  in 
the  literary  art. 

The  greater  part  of  Saint-Simon's  life  and  the  com- 
position of  his  Memoires  belong  to  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury; but  his  mind  was  moulded  during  his  early  years, 
and  retained  its  form  and  lineaments.  He  may  be  re- 
garded as  a  belated  representative  of  the  great  age  of 
Louis  XIV.  If  he  belongs  in  some  degree  to  the  newer 
age  by  virtue  of  his  sense  that  political  reform  was  needed, 
his  designs  of  political  reform  were  derived  from  the 
past  rather  than  pointed  towards  the  future.  Louis  DE 
ROUVRAY,  Due  DE  SAiNT-SiMON,  was  born  at  Versailles 
in  1675.  He  cherished  the  belief  that  his  ancestry  could 
be  traced  to  Charlemagne.  His  father,  a  page  of  Louis 
XIII.,  had  been  named  a  duke  and  peer  of  France  in 
1635  ;  from  his  father  descended  to  the  son  a  devotion 
to  the  memory  of  Louis  XIII.,  and  a  passionate  attach- 
ment to  the  dignity  of  his  own  order. 

Saint-Simon's  education  was  narrow,  but  he  acquired 
some  Latin,  and  was  a  diligent  reader  of  French  history. 
In  1691  he  was  presented  to  the  King  and  was  enrolled 
as  a  soldier  in  the  musketeers.  He  purchased  by-and-by 
what  we  should  now  call  the  colonelcy  of  a  cavalry  regi- 
ment, but  was  ill-pleased  with  the  system  which  had 
transformed  a  feudal  army  into  one  where  birth  and 
rank  were  subjected  to  official  control ;  and  in  1702, 
when  others  received  promotion  and  he  was  passed  over, 
he  sent  in  his  resignation.  Having  made  a  fortunate 
and  happy  marriage,  Saint-Simon  was  almost  constantly 
at  Versailles  until  the  death  of  the  King,  and  obtained 
the  most  intimate  acquaintance  with  what  he  terms  the 
mechanics  of  the  court.  He  had  many  grievances  against 
Louis  XIV.,  chief  among  them  the  insult  shown  to  the 


SAINT-SIMON  ,239 

nobility  in  the  King's  legitimatising  his  natural  offspring; 
and  he  justly  regarded  Madame  de  Maintenon  as  his 
enemy. 

The  death  of  the  Due  de  Bourgogne,  to  whose  party 
he  belonged,  was  a  blow  to  Saint-Simon's  hopes;  but  the 
Regent  remained  his  friend.  He  helped,  on  a  diplomatic 
mission  to  Spain,  to  negotiate  the  marriage  of  Louis  XV.; 
yet  still  was  on  fire  with  indignation  caused  by  the  wrongs 
of  the  dukes  and  peers,  whom  he  regarded  as  entitled 
on  historical  grounds  to  form  the  great  council  of 
the  monarchy,  and  almost  as  rightful  partners  in  the 
supreme  power.  His  political  life  closed  in  1723  with 
the  death  of  the  Regent.  He  lived  in  retirement  at  his 
chateau  of  La  Ferte-Vidame,  sorrowfully  surviving  his 
wife  and  his  sons.  In  Paris,  at  the  age  of  eighty  (1755), 
Saint-Simon  died. 

When  nineteen  years  old,  reading  Bassompierre's 
Memoires  in  a  soldier's  hour  of  leisure,  he  conceived 
the  idea  of  recording  his  own  experiences,  and  the 
Meinoires  of  Saint- Simon  were  begun.  During  later 
years,  in  the  camp  or  at  the  court,  notes  accumulated 
in  his  hands,  but  the  definitive  form  which  they  took 
was  not  determined  until,  in  his  retirement  at  La  Ferte- 
Vidame,  the  Journal  of  Dangeau  came  into  his  hands. 
Dangeau's  Journal  is  dry,  colourless,  passionless,  without 
insight  and  without  art ;  but  it  is  a  well-informed  and 
an  exact  chronicle,  extending  over  the  years  from  1684 
to  1720.  Saint-Simon  found  it  "d'une  fadeur  a  faire 
vomir "  ;  its  servility  towards  the  King  and  Madame  de 
Maintenon  enraged  him ;  but  it  exhibited  facts  in  an 
orderly  sequence ;  it  might  serve  as  a  guide  and  a  clue 
among  his  own  reminiscences ;  on  the  basis  of  Dangeau's 
literal  transcript  of  occurrences  he  might  weave  his  own 


240  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

brilliant  recitals  and  passionate  presentations  of  charac- 
ter. Thus  Saint-Simon's  Memoires  came  to  be  written. 

He  himself  saw  much,  and  his  eye  had  a  demonic 
power  of  observation  ;  nothing  escaped  his  vision,  and 
his  passions  enabled  him  to  penetrate  through  what  he 
saw  to  its  secret  meanings.  He  had  gathered  informa- 
tion from  those  who  knew  the  mysteries  of  the  palace 
and  the  court ;  great  persons,  court  ladies,  even  valets 
and  waiting-women,  had  been  sought  and  searched  to 
satisfy  his  insatiable  curiosity.  It  is  true  that  the  pas- 
sions which  often  lit  up  the  truth  sometimes  obscured  it ; 
any  gossip  discreditable  to  those  whom  he  hated  was 
welcome  to  him  ;  he  confesses  that  he  did  not  pique 
himself  on  his  impartiality,  and  it  is  certain  that  he  did 
not  always  verify  details.  Nevertheless  he  did  not  con- 
sciously falsify  facts ;  he  had  a  sense  of  the  honour  of 
a  gentleman  ;  his  spirit  was  serious,  and  his  feeling  of 
duty  and  of  religion  was  sincere.  Without  his  im- 
petuosity, his  violence,  his  exaggerations,  we  might  not 
have  had  his  vividness,  like  that  of  life  itself,  his  incom- 
parable portraits,  more  often  inspired  by  hatred  than 
by  love,  his  minuteness  and  his  breadth  of  style,  the 
phrases  which  ineffaceably  brand  his  victims,  the  lyrical 
outcry  of  triumph  over  enemies  of  his  order.  His 
style  is  the  large  style  of  seventeenth -century  prose, 
but  alive  with  words  that  sparkle  and  gleam,  words 
sometimes  created  by  himself  to  express  the  intensity 
of  his  imagination. 

The  Memoires,  the  final  preparation  of  which  was  the 
work  of  his  elder  years,  cover  the  period  from  1691  to 
1723.  His  manuscripts  were  bequeathed  to  his  cousin, 
the  Bishop  of  Metz  ;  a  lawsuit  arose  with  Saint-Simon's 
creditors,  and  in  the  end  the  papers  were  buried  among 


ANCIENTS  AND  MODERNS  241 

the  public  archives.  Considerable  fragments  saw  the 
light  before  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century,  but  it 
was  not  until  1829-31  that  a  true  editio  princeps,  sub- 
stantially correct,  was  published.  The  violences  and 
irregularities  of  Saint-Simon's  style  offered  no  obstacle 
to  the  admiration  of  readers  at  a  time  when  the 
romantic  movement  was  dominant.  He  was  hailed  as 
the  Tacitus  of  French  history,  and  had  his  manner 
something  more  of  habitual  concentration  the  com- 
parison would  not  be  unjust. 

The  eighteenth  century  may  be  said  to  have  begun 
before  the  year  1701  with  the  quarrel  of  the  Ancients 
and  the  Moderns.  If  we  can  speak  of  any  one  idea  as 
dominant  during  the  age  of  the  philosophers,  it  is  the 
idea  of  human  progress.  Through  an  academic  dis- 
putation that  idea  emerged  to  the  light.  At  first  a 
religious  question  was  complicated  with  a  question  re- 
lating to  art ;  afterwards  the  religious  question  was 
replaced  by  one  of  philosophy.  As  early  as  1657, 
Desmarets  de  Saint-Sorlin,  turned  pietist  after  a  youth 
of  licence,  maintained  in  theory,  as  well  as  by  the  ex- 
amples of  his  unreadable  epic  poems,  that  Christian 
heroism  and  Christian  faith  afforded  material  for  ima- 
ginative handling  more  suitable  to  a  Christian  poet  th£n 
the  history  and  fables  of  antiquity.  Boileau,  in  the 
third  chant  of  his  Art  Poetique,  replied — the  mysteries 
of  the  Christian  faith  are  too  solemn,  too  awful,  to  be 
tricked  out  to  gratify  the  fancy. 

Desmarets  dying,  bequeathed  his  contention  to  CHARLES 
PERRAULT  (1628-1703),  who  had  burlesqued  the  ALneid, 
written  light  and  fragile  pieces  of  verse,  and  occupied 
himself  as  a  dilettante  in  patristic  and  historical  studies. 
In  1687,  after  various  skirmishes  between  partisans  on 


242  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

either  side,  the  quarrel  assumed  a  new  importance.  The 
King  had  recovered  after  a  painful  operation  ;  it  was  a 
moment  for  gratulation.  Perrault,  at  a  sitting  of  the 
Academy,  read  his  poem  Le  Siecle  de  Louis  le  Grand, 
in  which  the  revolt  against  the  classical  tyranny  was 
formulated,  and  contemporary  authors  were  glorified  at 
the  expense  of  the  poets  of  antiquity.  Boileau  mur- 
mured, indignant ;  Racine  offered  ironical  commenda- 
tions ;  other  Academicians  patriotically  applauded  their 
own  praises.  Light-feathered  epigrams  sped  to  and  fro. 

Fontenelle,  in  his  Discours  sur  FEglogue  and  a  Digres- 
sion sur  les  Anciens  et  les  Modernes,  widened  the  field 
of  debate.  Were  trees  in  ancient  days  taller  than  those 
in  our  own  fields  ?  If  not,  why  may  not  modern  men 
equal  Homer,  Plato,  and  Demosthenes  ?  "  Nothing 
checks  the  progress  of  things,  nothing  confines  the 
intelligence  so  much  as  admiration  of  the  ancients." 
Genius  is  bestowed  by  Nature  on  every  age,  but  know- 
ledge grows  from  generation  to  generation.  In  his  dia- 
logues entitled  the  Parallcle  des  Anciens  et  des  Modernes 
(1688-97),  Perrault  maintained  that  in  art,  in  science, 
in  literature,  the  law  of  the  human  mind  is  a  law  of 
progress ;  that  we  are  the  true  ancients  of  the  earth, 
wise  with  inherited  science,  more  exact  in  reasoning, 
more  refined  in  psychological  distinctions,  raised  to  a 
higher  plane  by  Christianity,  by  the  invention  of  print- 
ing, and  by  the  favour  of  a -great  monarch.  La  Fontaine 
in  his  charming  Epitre  to  Huet,  La  Bruyere  in  his 
CaractereSj  Boileau  in  his  ill  -  tempered  Reflexions  sur 
Longin,  rallied  the  supporters  of  classicism.  Gradually 
the  fires  smouldered  or  were  assuaged ;  Boileau  and 
Perrault  were  reconciled. 

Perrault,  if  he  did  not  honour  antiquity  in  classical 


ANCIENTS  AND  MODERNS  243 

forms,  paid  a  homage  to  popular  tradition  in  his  de- 
lightful Contes  de  ma  M£re  fOie  (if,  indeed,  the  tales  be 
his),  which  have  been  a  joy  to  generations  of  children. 
With  inferior  art,  Madame  d'Aulnoy  added  to  the  golden 
treasury  for  the  young.  When,  fifteen  or  twenty  years 
after  the  earlier  war,  a  new  campaign  began  between 
the  Ancients  and  the  Moderns,  the  philosophical  dis- 
cussion of  the  idea  of  progress  had  separated  itself 
from  the  literary  quarrel.  But  in  the  tiltings  of  Lamotte- 
Houdart,  the  champion  of  the  moderns,  against  a  well- 
equipped  female  knight,  the  learned  Madame  Dacier — - 
indignant  at  Lamotte's  Iliade,  recast  in  the  eighteenth- 
century  taste — a  new  question  was  raised,  and  one  of 
significance  for  the  eighteenth  century  —  that  of  the 
relative  merits  of  prose  and  verse. 

Lamotte,  a  writer  of  comedy,  tragedy,  opera,  fables, 
eclogues,  odes,  maintained  that  the  highest  literary  form 
is  prose,  and  he  versified  none  the  less.  The  age  was 
indeed  an  age  of  prose — an  age  when  the  salons  dis- 
cussed the  latest  discovery  in  science,  the  latest  doctrine 
in  philosophy  or  politics.  Its  imaginative  enthusiasm 
passed  over  from  art  to  speculation,  and  what  may  be 
called  the  poetry  of  the  eighteenth  century  is  to  be 
found  less  in  its  odes  or  dramas  or  elegies  than  in  the 
hopes  and  visions  which  gathered  about  that  idea  of 
human  progress  emerging  from  a  literary  discussion, 
idle,  perhaps,  in  appearance,  but  in  its  inner  significance 
no  unfitting  inauguration  of  an  era  which  looked  to  the 
future  rather  than  to  the  past. 

BERNARD  LE  BOVIER  DE  FONTENELLE  (1657-1757), 
a  son  of  Corneille's  sister,  whose  intervention  in  the 
quarrel  of  Ancients  and  Moderns  turned  the  discussion 
in  the  direction  of  philosophy,  belongs  to  both  the 


244  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

seventeenth  and  the  eighteenth  centuries.  In  the  hun- 
dred years  which  made  up  his  life,  there  was  indeed 
time  for  a  second  Fontenelle  to  develop  from  the  first. 
The  first  Fontenelle,  satirised  as  the  Cydias  of  La 
Bruyere,  "un  compose  du  pedant  et  du  precieux,"  was 
an  aspirant  poet,  without  vision,  without  passion,  who 
tried  to  compensate  his  deficiencies  by  artificial  elegances 
of  style.  The  origin  of  hissing  is  maliciously  dated  by 
Racine  from  his  tragedy  Aspar.  His  operas  fluttered 
before  they  fell ;  his  J-Lglogues  had  not  life  enough  to 
flutter.  The  Dialogues  des  Marts  (1683)  is  a  young 
writer's  effort  to  be  clever  by  paradox,  an  effort  to  show 
his  wit  by  incongruous  juxtapositions,  and  a  cynical 
levelling  of  great  reputations.  But  there  was  another 
Fontenelle,  the  untrammelled  disciple  of  Descartes,  a 
man  of  universal  interests,  passionless,  but  curious  for 
all  knowledge,  an  assimilator  of  new  ideas,  a  dissolver 
of  old  beliefs,  an  intermediary  between  science  and  the 
world  of  fashion,  a  discreet  insinuator  of  doubts,  who 
smiled  but  never  condescended  to  laugh,  an  intelligence 
supple,  subtle,  and  untiring. 

In  1686  he  published  his  Entretiens  sur  la  Pluralite  des 
Mondes,  evening  conversations  between  an  astronomer 
and  a  marchioness,  half-scientific,  half-gallant,  learned 
coquetries  with  science,  for  which  he  asked  no  more 
serious  attention  than  a  novel  might  require,  while  he 
communicated  the  theories  of  Descartes  and  the  dis- 
coveries of  Galileo,  suggested  that  science  is  our  safest 
way  to  truth,  and  that  truth  at  best  is  not  absolute  but 
relative  to  the  human  understanding.  The  Histoire  dcs 
Oracles,  in  which  the  cargo  of  Dutch  erudition  that 
loaded  his  original  by  Van  Dale  is  skilfully  lightened, 
glided  to  the  edge  of  theological  storm.  Fontenelle 


FONTENELLE  245 

would  show  that  the  pagan  oracles  were  not  delivered 
by  demons,  and  did  not  cease  at  the  coming  of  Jesus 
Christ ;  innocent  opinions,  but  apt  to  illustrate  the 
origins  and  growth  of  superstitions,  from  which  we  too 
may  not  be  wholly  free  in  spite  of  all  our  advantages  of 
true  religion  and  sound  philosophy.  Of  course  God's 
chosen  people  are  not  like  unguided  Greeks  or  Romans  ; 
and  yet  human  beings  are  much  the  same  in  all  times 
and  places.  The  Jesuit  Baltus  scented  heresy,  and 
Fontenelle  was  very  ready  to  admit  that  the  devil  was 
a  prophet,  since  Father  Baltus  wished  it  so  to  be,  and 
held  the  opinion  to  be  orthodox. 

Appointed  perpetual  secretary  of  the  Academie  des 
Sciences  in  1697,  Fontenelle  pronounced  during  forty 
years  the  panegyrics  of  those  who  had  been  its  mem- 
bers. These  JiLloges  des  Academicians  are  masterpieces 
in  a  difficult  art,  luminous,  dignified,  generous  without 
ostentation,  plain  without  poverty  of  thought  or  expres- 
sion. The  discreet  Fontenelle  loved  tranquillity — "  If  I 
had  my  hand  full  of  truths,  I  should  take  good  care  before 
I  opened  it."  He  never  lost  a  friend,  acting  on  two 
prudent  maxims,  "  Everything  is  possible,"  and  "  Every 
one  is  right."  "  It  is  not  a  heart,"  said  Madame  de 
Tencin,  "which  you  have  in  your  breast;  it  is  a  brain." 
It  was  a  kindly  brain,  which  could  be  for  a  moment 
courageous.  And  thus  it  was  possible  for  him  to  enter 
his  hundredth  year,  still  interested  in  ideas,  still  tranquil 
and  alert. 

A  great  arsenal  for  the  uses  of  eighteenth -century 
philosophy  was  constructed  and  stored  by  PIERRE  BAYLE 
(1647-1706)  in  his  Dictionnaire  Historique  et  Critique,  of 
which  the  first  edition  was  published  in  1697.  Science, 
which  found  its  popular  interpreter  in  Fontenelle,  was 


246  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

a  region  hardly  entered  by  Bayle  ;  the  general  history 
of  Europe,  from  the  close  of  the  mediaeval  period,  and 
especially  the  records  in  every  age  of  mythologies,  reli- 
gions, theologies,  philosophies,  formed  his  province,  and 
it  was  one  of  wide  extent.  Born  in  1647,  son  of  a  Pro- 
testant pastor,  educated  by  Jesuits,  converted  by  them 
and  reconverted,  professor  of  philosophy  at  Sedan,  a 
fugitive  to  Rotterdam,  professor  there  of  history  and 
philosophy,  deprived  of  his  position  for  unorthodox 
opinions,  Bayle  found  rest  not  in  cessation  from  toil, 
but  in  the  research  of  a  sceptical  scholar,  peaceably 
and  endlessly  pursued. 

His  early  zeal  of  proselytism  languished  and  expired. 
In  its  place  came  a  boundless  curiosity,  a  penetrating 
sagacity.  His  vast  accumulations  of  knowledge  were 
like  those  of  the  students  of  the  Renaissance.  The  tend- 
encies of  his  intellect  anticipate  the  tendencies  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  but  with  him  scepticism  had  not 
become  ambitious  or  dogmatic.  He  followed  tranquilly 
where  reason  and  research  led,  and  saw  no  cause  why 
religion  and  morals  more  than  any  other  subjects  should 
not  be  submitted  to  the  scrutiny  of  rational  inquiry. 
Since  men  have  held  all  beliefs,  and  are  more  prone 
to  error  than  apt  to  find  the  truth,  why  should  any 
opinions  be  held  sacred  ?  Let  us  ascertain  and  expose 
the  facts.  In  doing  so,  we  shall  learn  the  lesson  of  uni- 
'versal  tolerance ;  and  if  the  principle  of  authority  in 
matters  of  religion  be  gently  sapped,  can  this  be  con- 
sidered an  evil  ?  Morals,  which  have  their  foundation  in 
the  human  understanding,  remain,  though  all  theologies 
may  be  in  doubt.  If  the  idea  of  Providence  be  a  super- 
stition, why  should  not  man  guide  his  life  by  good  sense 
and  moderation  ?  Bayle  did  not  attack  existing  beliefs 


PIERRE  BAYLE  247 

with  the  battering-ram  :  he  quietly  removed  a  stone  here 
and  a  stone  there  from  the  foundations.  If  he  is  aggres- 
sive, it  is  by  means  of  a  tranquil  irony.  The  errors  of 
human-kind  are  full  of  curious  interest ;  the  disputes 
of  theologians  are  both  curious  and  amusing  ;  the  moral 
licences  of  men  and  women  are  singular  and  often 
diverting.  Why  not  instruct  and  entertain  our  minds 
with  the  facts  of  the  world  ? 

The  instruction  is  delivered  by  Bayle  in  the  dense  and 
sometimes  heavy  columns  of  his  text ;  the  entertainment 
will  be  found  in  the  rambling  gossip,  interspersed  with 
illuminating  ideas,  of  his  notes.  Almost  every  eminent 
writer  of  the  eighteenth  century  was  a  debtor  to  Bayle's 
Dictionary.  He  kept  his  contemporaries  informed  of  all 
that  was  added  to  knowledge  in  his  periodical  publica- 
tion, Nouvelles  de  la  Republique  des  Lettres  (begun  in  1684). 
He  called  himself  a  cloud-compeller:  "My  gift  is  to 
create  doubts ;  but  they  are  no  more  than  doubts." 
Yet  there  is  light,  if  not  warmth,  in  such  a  genius  for 
criticism  as  his ;  and  it  was  light  not  only  for  France, 
but  for  Europe. 


BOOK    THE    FOURTH 
THE    EIGHTEENTH    CENTURY 


BOOK    THE    FOURTH 


CHAPTER  I 

MEMOIRS  AND  HISTORY— POETRY— THE 
THEATRE— THE  NOVEL 

I 

THE  literature  of  the  second  half  of  the  seventeenth 
century  was  monarchical,  Christian,  classical.  The 
eighteenth  century  was  to  lose  the  spirit  of  classical 
art  while  retaining  many  of  its  forms,  to  overthrow  the 
domination  of  the  Church,  to  destroy  the  monarchy. 
It  was  an  age  not  of  great  art  but  of  militant  ideas, 
which  more  and  more  came  to  utilise  art  as  their 
vehicle.  Political  speculation,  criticism,  science,  sceptical 
philosophy  invaded  literature.  The  influence  of  Eng- 
land— of  English  free-thinkers,  political  writers,  men 
of  science,  essayists,  novelists,  poets — replaced  the  in- 
fluence of  Italy  and  Spain,  and  for  long  that  of  the 
models  of  ancient  Greece  and  Rome.  The  century  of 
the  philosophers  was  eminently  social  and  mundane ; 
the  salons  revived ;  a  new  preciosity  came  into  fashion  ; 
but  as  time  went  on  the  salons  became  rather  the  mart 


252  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

of  ideas  philosophical  and  scientific  than  of  the  dainti- 
nesses of  letters  and  of  art.  Journalism  developed,  and 
thought  tended  to  action,  applied  itself  directly  to  public 
life.  While  the  work  of  destructive  criticism  proceeded, 
the  bases  of  a  moral  reconstruction  were  laid  ;  the  free 
play  of  intellect  was  succeeded  by  a  great  enfranchise- 
ment of  the  passions  ;  the  work  of  Voltaire  was  followed 
by  the  work  of  Rousseau. 

Before  the  close  of  the  reign  of  Louis  XIV.  the  old 
order  of  things  had  suffered  a  decline.  War,  famine, 
public  debt,  oppressive  taxation  had  discredited  the 
monarchy.  A  dull  hypocrisy  hardly  disguised  the  gross 
licentiousness  of  the  times.  The  revocation  of  the  edict 
of  Nantes  had  exiled  those  Protestants  who  formed  a 
substantial  part  of  the  moral  conscience  of  France.  The 
bitter  feud  of  brother-bishops,  Bossuet  and  Fenelon, 
hurling  defiance  against  each  other  for  the  love  of  God, 
had  made  religion  a  theme  for  mockery.  Port-Royal, 
once  the  refuge  of  serious  faith  and  strict  morals,  was 
destroyed.  The  bull  Unigenitus  expelled  the  spiritual 
element  from  French  Christianity,  reduced  the  clergy 
to  a  state  of  intellectual  impotence,  and  made  a  lasting 
breach  between  them  and  the  better  part  of  the  laity. 
Meanwhile  the  scientific  movement  had  been  proving 
its  power.  Science  had  come  to  fill  the  place  left  void 
by  religion.  The  period  of  the  Regency  (1715-23)  is 
one  of  transition  from  the  past  to  the  newer  age, 
shameless  in  morals,  degraded  in  art ;  the  period  of 
Voltaire  followed,  when  intellect  sapped  and  mined  the 
old  beliefs ;  with  Rousseau  came  the  explosion  of  senti- 
ment and  an  effort  towards  reconstruction.  A  great 
political  and  social  revolution  closed  the  century. 

The  life  of  the  time  is  seen  in  many  memoirs,  and  in 


MEMOIRS  AND  LETTERS  253 

the  correspondence  of  many  distinguished  persons,  both 
men  and  women.  Among  the  former  the  Mfrnoires  of 
Mdlle.  Delaunay,  afterwards  Mme.  de  Staal  (1684-1750) 
are  remarkable  for  the  vein  of  melancholy,  subdued  by 
irony,  underlying  a  style  which  is  formed  for  fine  and  clear 
exactness.  The  Duchesse  du  Maine's  lady-in-waiting, 
daughter  of  a  poor  painter,  but  educated  with  care,  drew 
delicately  in  her  literary  art  with  an  etcher's  tool,  and 
her  hand  was  controlled  by  a  spirit  which  had  in  it 
something  of  the  Stoic.  The  Souvenirs  of  Mme.  de 
Caylus  (1673-1729),  niece  of  Mme.  de  Maintenon  — 
"jamais  de  creature  plus  seduisante,"  says  Saint-Simon 
— give  pictures  of  the  court,  charming  in  their  naivete, 
grace,  and  mirth.  Mme.  d'Epinay,  designing  to  tell  the 
story  of  her  own  life,  disguised  as  a  piece  of  fiction, 
became  in  her  Memoires  the  chronicler  of  the  manners 
of  her  time.  The  society  of  the  salons  and  the  men  of 
letters  is  depicted  in  the  Memoirs  of  Marmontel.  These 
are  but  examples  from  an  abundant  literature  constantly 
augmented  to  the  days  of  Mme.  de  Campan  and  Mme. 
Roland.  The  general  aspect  of  the  social  world  in  the 
mid-century  is  presented  by  the  historian  Duclos  (1704- 
1772)  in  his  Considerations  sur  les  Mceurs  de  ce  Siecle,  and 
with  reparation  for  his  previous  neglect  of  the  part 
played  in  society  by  women  in  his  Memoires  pour  servir 
a  I'Histoire  du  X  VIII e  Siecle. 

As  much  or  more  may  be  learnt  from  the  letter- 
writers  as  from  the  writers  of  memoirs.  If  Voltaire 
did  not  take  the  first  place  by  his  correspondence, 
so  vast,  so  luminous,  so  comprehensive,  it  might  justly 
be  assigned  to  his  friend  Mme.  du  Deffand  (1697- 
1780),  wrhose  lucid  intelligence  perceived  everything, 
whose  disabused  heart  seemed  detached  until  old  age 


254  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

from  all  that  most  interested  her  understanding.  For 
clear  good  sense  we  turn  to  the  Marquise  de  Lambert, 
for  bourgeois  worth  and  kindliness  to  Mme.  Geoffrin, 
for  passion  which  kindles  the  page  to  Mdlle.  de  Lespi- 
nasse,  for  sensibility  and  romance  ripening  to  political 
ardour  and  strenuous  convictions  to  Mme.  Roland. 
Among  the  philosophers  Diderot  pours  the  torrent, 
clear  or  turbid,  of  his  genius  into  his  correspondence 
with  affluent  improvisation  ;  D'Alembert  is  grave,  tem- 
perate, lucid  ;  the  Abbe  Galiani,  the  little  Machiavel — "a 
pantomime  from  head  to  foot,"  said  Diderot — the  gay 
Neapolitan  punchinello,  given  the  freedom  of  Paris, 
that  "  capital  of  curiosity,"  is  at  once  wit,  cynic,  thinker, 
scholar,  and  buffoon.  These,  again,  are  but  examples 
from  an  epistolary  swarm. 

While  the  eighteenth  century  thus  mirrored  itself  in 
memoirs  and  letters,  it  did  not  forget  the  life  of  past 
centuries.  The  studious  Benedictines,  who  had  already 
accomplished  much,  continued  their  erudite  labours. 
Nicolas  Freret  (1688-1749),  taking  all  antiquity  for  his 
province,  illuminated  the  study  of  chronology,  geogra- 
phy, sciences,  arts,  language,  religion.  Daniel  and  Velly 
narrated  the  history  of  France.  Vertot  (1655-1735),  with 
little  of  the  spirit  of  historical  fidelity,  displayed  certain 
gifts  of  an  historical  artist.  The  school  of  scepticism 
was  represented  by  the  Jesuit  Hardouin,  who  doubted 
the  authenticity  of  all  records  of  the  past  except  those 
of  his  own  numismatic  treasures.  Questions  as  to  the 
principles  of  historical  certitude  occupied  the  Academy 
of  Inscriptions  during  many  sittings  from  1720  onwards, 
and  produced  a  body  of  important  studies.  While  the 
Physiocrats  were  endeavouring  to  demonstrate  that 
there  is  a  natural  order  in  social  circumstances,  a  philo- 


PHILOSOPHY  OF  HISTORY  255 

sophy  of  history,  which  bound  the  ages  together,  was 
developed  in  the  writings  of  Montesquieu  and  Turgot, 
if  not  of  Voltaire.  The  Esprit  des  Lois,  the  Essai  sur  les 
Mceurs,  and  Turgot's  discourses,  delivered  in  1750  at  the 
Sorbonne,  contributed  in  different  degrees  and  ways 
towards  a  new  and  profounder  conception  of  the  life  of 
societies  or  of  humanity.  By  Turgot  for  the  first  time 
the  idea  of  progress  was  accepted  as  the  ruling  principle 
of  history.  It  cannot  be  denied  that,  as  regards  the 
sciences  of  inorganic  nature,  he  more  than  foreshadowed 
Comte's  theory  of  the  three  states,  theological,  metaphysi- 
cal, and  positive,  through  which  the  mind  of  humanity  is 
alleged  to  have  travelled. 

In  the  second  half  of  the  century,  history  tended  to 
become  doctrinaire,  aggressive,  declamatory — a  pamphlet 
in  the  form  of  treatise  or  narrative.  Morelly  wrote  in 
the  interest  of  socialistic  ideas,  which  correspond  to 
those  of  modern  collectivism.  Mably,  inspired  at  first 
by  enthusiasm  for  the  ancient  republics,  advanced  to  a 
communistic  creed.  Condorcet,  as  the  century  drew 
towards  a  close,  bringing  together  the  ideas  of  econo- 
mists and  historians,  traced  human  progress  through  the 
past,  and  uttered  ardent  prophecies  of  human  perfecti- 
bility in  the  future. 

II 

Poetry  other  than  dramatic  grew  in  the  eighteenth 
century  upon  a  shallow  soil.  The  more  serious  and  the 
more  ardent  mind  of  the  time  was  occupied  with  science, 
the  study  of  nature,  the  study  of  society,  philosophical 
speculation,  the  criticism  of  religion,  of  government,  and 
of  social  arrangements.  The  old  basis  of  belief  upon 


2 $6  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

which  reposed  the  great  art  of  the  preceding  century  had 
given  way.  The  analytic  intellect  distrusted  the  imagina- 
tion. The  conventions  of  a  brilliant  society  were  un- 
favourable to  the  contemplative  mood  of  high  poetry. 
The  tyranny  of  the  "  rules "  remained  when  the  enthu- 
siasm which  found  guidance  and  a  safeguard  in  the  rules 
had  departed.  The  language  itself  had  lost  in  richness, 
variety,  harmony,  and  colour ;  it  was  an  admirable  in- 
strument for  the  intellect,  but  was  less  apt  to  render 
sensations  and  passions  ;  when  employed  for  the  loftier 
purposes  of  art  it  tended  to  the  oratorical,  with  something 
of  over-emphasis  and  strain.  The  contention  of  La 
Motte-Houdart  that  verse  denaturalises  and  deforms  ideas, 
expresses  the  faith  of  the  time,  and  La  Motte's  own  cold 
and  laboured  odes  did  not  tend  to  refute  his  theory. 

Chaulieu  (1639-1720),  the  "  poete  de  la  bonne  com- 
pagnie,"  an  anacreontic  senior,  patriarch  of  pleasure,  sur- 
vived the  classical  century,  and  sang  his  songs  of  facile, 
epicurean  delights  ;  his  friend  La  Fare  (1644—1712)  sur- 
vived, but  slept  and  ate  more  than  a  songster  should. 
Anthony  Hamilton  (16467-1720)  wrote  graceful  verses, 
and  in  his  brilliant  Me  moires  de  la  Vie  du  Comte  de 
Gramont  became  the  historian  of  the  amorous  intrigues 
of  the  court  of  Charles  II.  Jean-Baptiste  Rousseau 
(1670-1741),  who  in  the  days  of  Mme.  de  Maintenon's 
authority  had  in  his  sacred  Cantates  been  pious  by  com- 
mand, recompensed  himself  by  retailing  unbecoming 
epigrams — and  for  epigram  he  had  a  genuine  gift— to 
the  Society  of  the  Temple.  He  manufactured  odes  with 
skill  in  the  mechanism  of  verse,  and  carefully  secured  the 
fine  disorder  required  in  that  form  of  art  by  factitious 
enthusiasm  and  the  abuse  of  mythology  and  allegory. 
When  Rousseau  died,  Lefranc  de  Pompignan  mourned 


DESCRIPTIVE  POETRY  257 

for  "le  premier  chantre  du  monde,"  reborn  as  the  Orpheus 
of  France,  in  a  poem  which  alone  of  Lefranc's  numerous 
productions — and  by  virtue  of  two  stanzas — has  not  that 
sanctity  ascribed  to  them  by  Voltaire,  the  sanctity  which 
forbids  any  one  to  touch  them.  Why  name  their  fellows 
and  successors  in  the  eighteenth-century  art  of  writing 
poems  without  poetry  ? 

Louis  Racine  (1692-1763),  son  of  the  author  of  Athalie, 
in  his  versified  discourses  on  La  Grace  and  La  Religion 
was  devout  and  edifying,  but  writh  an  edification  which 
promotes  slumber.  If  a  poet  in  sympathy  with  the 
philosophers  desired  to  edify,  he  described  the  pheno- 
mena of  nature  as  Saint- Lambert  (1716-1803)  did  in 
his  Saisons — "the  only  work  of  our  century," Voltaire 
assured  the  author,  "which  will  reach  posterity."  To 
describe  meant  to  draw  out  the  inventory  of  nature's 
charms  with  an  eye  not  on  the  object  but  on  the  page 
of  the  Encyclopaedia,  and  to  avoid  the  indecency  of 
naming  anything  in  direct  and  simple  speech.  The 
Seasons  of  Saint-Lambert  were  followed  by  the  Months 
(Mois)  of  Roucher  (1745-94) — "the  most  beautiful  poetic 
shipwreck  of  the  century,"  said  the  malicious  Rivarol 
— and  by  the  Jardins  of  Delille  (1738-1813).  When 
Delille  translated  the  Georgics  he  was  saluted  by  Voltaire 
as  the  Abbe  Virgil.1  The  salons  heard  him  with  rapture 
recite  his  verses  as  from  the  tripod  of  inspiration.  He 
was  the  favourite  of  Marie-Antoinette.  Aged  and  blind, 
he  was  a  third  with  Homer  and  Milton.  In  death  they 
crowned  his  forehead,  and  for  three  days  the  mourning 
crowd  gazed  on  all  that  remained  of  their  great  poet. 
And  yet  Delille's  Jardins  is  no  better  than  a  patchwork 
of  carpet-gardening,  in  which  the  flowers  are  theatrical 

1  Or  was  this  Rivarol's  ironical  jest? 


258  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

paper-flowers.  If  anything  lives  from  the  descriptive 
poetry  of  the  eighteenth  century,  it  is  a  few  detached 
lines  from  the  writings  of  Lemierre. 

The  successor  of  J.-B.  Rousseau  in  the  grand  ode  was 
Ecouchard  Lebrun  (1729-1807),  rival  of  Pindar.  All  he 
wanted  to  equal  Pindar  was  some  forgetfulness  of  self, 
some  warmth,  some  genuine  enthusiasm,  some  harmony, 
a  touch  of  genius ;  a  certain  dignity  of  imagination  he 
exhibits  in  his  best  moments.  If  we  say  that  he  honoured 
Buffon  and  was  the  friend  of  Andre  Chenier,  we  have 
said  in  his  praise  that  which  gives  him  the  highest  dis- 
tinction ;  yet  it  may  be  added  that  if  he  often  falsified 
the  ode,  he,  like  Rousseau,  excelled  in  epigram.  It  was 
not  the  great  lyric  but  le  petit  lyrisme  which  blossomed 
and  ran  to  seed  in  the  thin  poetic  soil.  The  singers  of 
fragile  loves  and  trivial  pleasures  are  often  charming,  and 
as  often  they  are  merely  frivolous  or  merely  depraved. 
Grecourt ;  Piron  ;  Bernard,  the  curled  and  powdered 
Anacreon ;  Bernis,  Voltaire's  "  Babet  la  Bouquetiere," 
King  Frederick's  poet  of  "  sterile  abundance "  ;  Dorat, 
who  could  flutter  at  times  with  an  airy  grace  ;  Bertin, 
born  in  the  tropics,  and  with  the  heat  of  the  senses  in 
his  verse  ;  Parny,  an  estray  in  Paris  from  the  palms  and 
fountains  of  the  Isle  Bourbon,  the  "  dear  Tibiillus "  of 
Voltaire — what  a  swarm  of  butterflies,  soiled  or  shining  ! 

If  two  or  three  poets  deserve  to  be  distinguished  from 
the  rest,  one  is  surely  jEAN-BAPTiSTE-Louis  CRESSET 
(1709-77),  whose  parrot  Vert-Vert,  instructed  by  the 
pious  Sisters,  demoralised  by  the  boatmen  of  the  Loire, 
still  edifies  and  scandalises  the  lover  of  happy  badinage 
in  verse ;  one  is  the  young  and  unfortunate  NICOLAS- 
JOSEPH- LAURENT  GILBERT  (1751-80),  less  unfortunate 
and  less  gifted  than  the  legend  makes  him,  yet  luckless 


TRAGEDY  AFTER  RACINE  259 

enough  and  embittered  enough  to  become  the  satirist 
of  Academicians  and  philosophers  and  the  society  which 
had  scorned  his  muse;  and  the  third  is  jEAN-PlERRE 
CLARIS  DE  FLORIAN  (1755-94),  the  amiable  fabulist, 
who,  lacking  La  Fontaine's  lyric  genius,  fine  harmonies, 
and  penetrating  good  sense,  yet  can  tell  a  story  with 
pleasant  ease,  and  draw  a  moral  with  gentle  propriety. 

In  every  poetic  form,  except  comedy,  that  he  attempted, 
Voltaire  stands  high  among  his  contemporaries ;  they 
give  us  a  measure  of  his  range  and  excellence.  But 
the  two  greatest  poets  of  the  eighteenth  century  wrote 
in  prose.  Its  philosophical  poet  was  the  naturalist 
Buffon  ;  its  supreme  lyrist  was  the  author  of  La  Nouvelle 
Helo'ise. 


Ill 

In  the  history  of  French  tragedy  only  one  name  of 
importance — that  of  Crebillon — is  to  be  found  in  the 
interval  between  Racine  and  Voltaire.  Campistron 
feebly,  Daachet  formally  and  awkwardly,  imitated 
Racine ;  Duche  followed  him  in  sacred  tragedy ;  La 
Grange -Chancel  (author  of  the  Philippiques,  directed 
against  the  Regent)  followed  him  in  tragedies  on  classical 
subjects.  If  any  piece  deserves  to  be  distinguished 
above  the  rest,  it  is  the  Manlius  (1698)  of  La  Fosse,  a 
work — suggestive  rather  of  Corneille  than  of  Racine — 
which  was  founded  on  the  Venice  Preserved  of  Otway. 
The  art  of  Racine  languished  in  inferior  hands.  The 
eighteenth  century,  while  preserving  its  form,  thought 
to  reanimate  it  by  the  provocatives  of  scenic  decoration 
and  more  rapid  and  more  convulsive  action. 

PROSPER  JOLYOT  DE  CREBILLON  (1674-1762),  a  diligent 


260  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

reader  of  seventeenth-century  romances,  transported  the 
devices  of  romance,  its  horrors,  its  pathetic  incidents,  its 
disguises,  its  surprises,  its  discoveries,  into  the  theatre, 
and  substituted  a  tragedy  of  violent  situations  for  the 
tragedy  of  character.  His  Rhadamiste  et  Zenobie  (1711), 
which  has  an  air  of  Corneillean  grandeur  and  heroism, 
notwithstanding  a  plot  so  complicated  that  it  is  difficult 
to  follow,  was  received  with  unmeasured  enthusiasm.  To 
be  atrocious  within  the  rules  was  to  create  a  new  and 
thrilling  sensation.  Torrents  of  tears  flowed  for  the 
unhappy  heroine  of  La  Motte's  Ines  de  Castro  (1723), 
secretly  married  to  the  Prince  of  Portugal,  and  pardoned 
only  when  the  fatal  poison  is  in  her  veins.  Voltaire's 
effort  to  renovate  classical  tragedy  was  that  of  a  writer 
who  loved  the  theatre,  first  for  its  own  sake,  afterwards 
as  an  instrument  for  influencing  public  opinion,  who 
conceived  tragedy  aright  as  the  presentation  of  character 
and  passion  seen  in  action.  His  art  suffered  from  his 
extreme  facility,  from  his  inability  (except  it  be  in  Zaire) 
to  attain  dramatic  self-detachment,  from  the  desire  to 
conquer  his  spectators  in  the  readiest  ways,'  by  striking 
situations,  or,  at  a  later  date,  by  the  rhetoric  of  philo- 
sophical doctrine  and  sentiment. 

There  is  no  one,  with  all  his  faults,  to  set  beside 
Voltaire.  Piron  and  Cresset  are  remembered,  not  by 
their  tragedies,  but  each  by  a  single  comedy.  Mar- 
montel's  Memoirs  live ;  his  tales  have  a  faded  glory  ;  as 
for  his  tragedies,  the  ingenious  stage  asp  which  hissed 
as  the  curtain  fell  on  his  Clcopatre,  was  a  sound  critic  of 
their  mediocrity.  Lemierre,  with  some  theatrical  talent, 
wrote  ill ;  as  the  love  of  spectacle  grew,  he  permitted 
his  William  Tell  to  shoot  the  apple,  and  his  widow  of 
Malabar  to  die  in  flames  upon  the  stage. 


DUCIS  AND  SHAKESPEARE  261 

Saurin  in  Spartacus  (1760)  declaimed  and  dissertated 
in  the  manner  of  Voltaire.  De  Belloy  at  a  lucky 
moment  showed,  in  his  Siege  de  Calais  (1765),  that  rhe- 
torical patriotism  had  survived  the  Seven  Years'  War ; 
he  was  supposed  to  have  founded  that  national,  historic 
drama  which  the  President  Renault  had  projected ;  but 
with  the  Siege  de  Calais  the  national  drama  rose  and 
fell.  Laharpe  (1739-1803)  was  the  latest  writer  who 
compounded  classical  tragedy  according  to  the  approved 
recipe.  In  the  last  quarter  of  the  century  Shakespeare 
became  known  to  the  French  public  through  the  transla- 
tion of  Letourneur.  Before  that  translation  began  to 
appear,  JEAN-FRANCOIS  DUCIS  (1733-1816),  the  patron 
of  whose  imagination  was  his  "  Saint  Guillaume "  of 
Stratford,  though  he  knew  no  English,  had  in  a  fashion 
presented  Hamlet  (1769)  and  Romeo  and  Juliet  to  his 
countrymen ;  King  Lear,  Macbeth,  King  John,  Othello 
(1792)  followed.  But  Ducis  came  a  generation  too 
soon  for  a  true  Shakespearian  rendering  ;  simple  and 
heroic  in  his  character  as  a  man,  he  belonged  to  an 
age  of  philosophers  and  sentimentalists,  an  age  of 
"virtue"  and  "nature."  Shakespeare's  translation  is 
as  strange  as  that  of  his  own  Bottom.  Ophelia  is  the 
daughter  of  King  Claudius  ;  the  Queen  dies  by  her  own 
hand ;  old  Montague  is  a  Montague-Ugolino  who  has 
devoured  his  sons ;  Malcolm  is  believed  to  be  a 
mountaineer's  child  ;  Lear  is  borne  on  the  stage,  sleep- 
ing on  a  bed  of  roses,  that  he  may  beheld  a  sunrise  ; 
Hedelmone  (Desdemona)  is  no  longer  Othello's  wife  ; 
lago  disappears ;  Desdemona's  handkerchief  is  not 
among  the  properties;  and  Juliet's  lark  is  voiceless. 
Eighteenth-century  tragedy  is  indeed  a  city  of  tombs. 

Comedy  made  some  amends.     Before  the  appearance 


262  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

of  Regnard,  the  actor  Baron,  Moliere's  favourite  pupil, 
had  given  a  lively  play — UHomme  a  bonne  Fortune  (1686). 
JEAN-FRANCOIS  REGNARD  (1655-1709)  escaped  from  his 
corsair  captors  and  slavery  at  Algiers,  made  his  sorry 
company  of  knaves  and  fools  acceptable  by  virtue  of 
inexhaustible  gaiety,  bright  fantasy,  and  the  liveliest 
of  comic  styles.  His  Joueur  (1696)  is  a  scapegrace, 
possessed  by  the  passion  of  gaming,  whose  love  of 
Angelique  is  a  devotion  to  her  dowry,  but  he  will  con- 
sole himself  for  lost  love  by  another  throw  of  the  dice. 
His  Le'gataire  Universel,  greedy,  old,  and  ailing,  is  sur- 
rounded by  pitiless  rogues,  yet  the  curtain  falls  on  a 
general  reconciliation.  Regnard's  morals  may  be  doubt- 
ful, but  his  mirth  is  unquestionable. 

Dancourt  (1661-1725),  with  a  far  less  happy  style,  had 
a  truer  power  of  observation,  and  as  quick  an  instinct 
for  theatrical  effects ;  he  exhibits  in  the  Chevalier  a  la 
Mode  and  the  Bourgeoises  a  la  Mode,  if  not  with  exact 
fidelity,  at  least  in  telling  caricature,  the  struggle  of 
classes  in  the  society  around  him,  wealth  ambitious  for 
rank,  rank  prepared  to  sell  itself  for  wealth.  The  same 
spirit  of  cynical  gaiety  inspires  the  Double  Veuvage  of 
Charles  Riviere  Dufresny  (1655  7-1724),  where  husband 
and  wife,  each  disappointed  in  false  tidings  of  the  other's 
death,  exhibit  transports  of  feigned  joy  on  meeting,  and 
assist  in  the  marriage  of  their  respective  lovers,  each  to 
accomplish  the  vexation  of  the  other.  Among  such 
plays  as  these  the  Turcaret  (1709)  of  Lesage  appears  as 
the  creation  of  a  type,  and  a  type  which  verifies  itself 
as  drawn  with  a  realism  powerful  and  unfaltering. 

In  striking  contrast  with  Lesage's  bold  and  bitter  satire 
are  the  comedies  of  Marivaux,  delicate  indeed  in  observa- 
tion of  life  and  character,  skilled  in  their  exploration  of 


EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY  COMEDY         263 

the  byways  of  the  heart,  brilliant  in  fantasy,  subtle  in 
sentiment,  lightly  touched  by  the  sensuality  of  the  day. 
Philippe  Nericault  Destouches  (1680-1754)  had  the  am- 
bition to  revive  the  comedy  of  character,  and  by  its 
means  to  read  moral  lessons  on  the  stage  ;  unfortunately 
what  he  lacked  was  comic  power.  In  his  most  cele- 
brated piece,  Le  Glorieux,  he  returns  to  the  theme 
treated  by  Dancourt  of  the  struggle  between  the  ruined 
noblesse  and  the  aspiring  middle  class.  Pathos  and 
something  of  romance  are  added  to  comedy. 

Already  those  tendencies  which  were  to  produce  the 
so-called  comedie  larmoyante  were  at  work.  Piron 
(1689-1773),  who  regarded  it  with  hostility,  unde- 
signedly  assisted  in  its  creation  ;  Les  Fits  Ingrats,  named 
afterwards  LEcole  des  Peres,  given  in  1728,  the  story 
of  a  too  generous  father  of  ungrateful  children,  a  play 
designed  for  mirth,  was  in  fact  fitter  to  draw  tears  than 
to  excite  laughter.  Piron's  special  gift,  however,  was 
for  satire.  In  La  Metromanie  he  smiles  at  the  folly  of 
the  aspirant  poet  with  all  his  cherished  illusions  ;  yet 
young  Damis  with  his  folly,  the  innocent  error  of  a 
generous  spirit,  wins  a  sympathy  to  which  the  duller 
representatives  of  good  sense  can  make  no  claim.  It 
is  satire  also  which  gives  whatever  comic  force  it  pos- 
sesses to  the  one  comedy  of  Cresset  that  is  not  forgotten : 
Le  Mechant  (1747),  a  disloyal  comrade,  would  steal  the 
heart  of  his  friend's  beloved ;  soubrette  and  valet  con- 
spire to  expose  the  traitor ;  but  Cleon,  who  loves  mis- 
chief in  the  spirit  of  sport,  though  unmasked,  is  little 
disconcerted.  Brilliant  in  lines  and  speeches,  Le  Mechant 
is  defective  in  its  composition  as  a  whole. 

The  decline  in  a  feeling  for  composition,  for  art,  for  the 

severity  of  outline,  was  accompanied  by  a  development  of 
zS 


264  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

the  emotional  or  sentimental  element  in  drama.  As  sen- 
sibility was  quickened,  and  wealth  and  ease  increased, 
little  things  came  to  be  felt  as  important.  The  middle 
class  advanced  in  prosperity  and  power.  Why  should 
emperors  and  kings,  queens  and  princesses  occupy  the 
stage?  Why  neglect  the  joys  and  griefs  of  every-day 
domestic  life?  If  "nature"  and  "virtue"  were  to  be 
honoured,  why  not  seek  them  here  ?  Man,  the  new 
philosophy  taught,  is  essentially  good  ;  human  nature 
is  of  itself  inclined  to  virtue  ;  if  it  strays  through 
force  of  circumstance  into  vice  or  folly,  should  not 
its  errors  be  viewed  with  sympathy,  with  tenderness  ? 
Thus  comedy  grew  serious,  and  tragedy  put  off  its 
exalted  airs  ;  the  genius  of  tragedy  and  the  genius  of 
comedy  were  wedded,  and  the  comddie  larmoyante,  which 
might  be  named  more  correctly  the  bourgeois  drama, 
was  born  of  this  union. 

In  the  plays  of  NIVELLE  DE  LA  CHAUSEE  (1692-1754) 
the  new  type  is  already  formed.  The  relations  of  wife 
and  husband,  of  father  and  child,  form  the  theme  of 
all  his  plays.  In  Mttanide,  father  and  son,  unrecognised, 
are  rivals  in  love  ;  the  wife  and  mother,  supposed  to 
be  dead,  is  discovered ;  the  husband  returns  to  her 
arms,  and  is  reconciled  to  his  son.  It  is  the  victory 
of  nature  and  of  innate  goodness  ;  comic  intention  and 
comic  power  are  wholly  absent.  La  Chausee's  morals  are 
those  of  an  optimist ;  but  those  modern  domestic  tragedies, 
the  ethics  of  which  do  not  err  by  over-sanguine  views 
of  human  nature,  may  trace  their  ancestry  to  Melanide. 

For  such  serious  comedy  or  bourgeois  drama  the 
appropriate  vehicle,  so  Diderot  maintained,  is  prose. 
Diderot,  among  his  many  gifts,  did  not  possess  a  talent 
for  dramatic  writing.  But  as  a  critic  his  influence  was 


THE  COMEDIE  LARMOYANTE  265 

considerable.  Midway  between  tragedy  and  comedy 
he  perceived  a  place  for  the  serious  drama ;  to  right 
and  left,  on  either  side  of  the  centre,  were  spaces  for 
forms  approximating,  the  one  to  tragedy,  the  other  to 
comedy.  The  hybrid  species  of  tragi-comedy  he  wholly 
condemned ;  each  genre,  as  he  conceived  it,  is  a  unity 
containing  its  own  principle  of  life.  The  function  of 
the  theatre  is  less  to  represent  character  fully  formed 
than  to  study  the  natural  history  of  character,  to  exhibit 
the  environments  which  determine  character.  Its  pur- 
pose is  to  moralise  life,  and  the  chief  means  of  morali- 
sation  is  that  effusive  sensibility  which  is  the  outflow 
of  the  inherent  goodness  of  human  nature. 

Diderot  attempted  to  justify  his  theory  by  examples, 
and  only  proved  his  own  incapacity  as  a  writer  for  the 
stage.  His  friend  SEDAINE  (1719-97)  was  more  fortunate. 
Of  the  bourgeois  drama  of  the  eighteenth  century,  Le 
Philosophe  sans  le  savoir  alone  survives.  It  is  little  more 
than  a  domestic  anecdote  rendered  dramatic,  but  it  has 
life  and  reality.  The  merchant  Vanderk's  daughter  is 
to  be  married  ;  but  on  the  same  day  his  son,  resenting 
an  insult  to  his  father,  must  expose  his  life  in  a  duel. 
Old  Antoine,  the  intendant,  would  take  his  young  master's 
place  of  danger ;  Antoine's  daughter,  Victorine,  half- 
unawares  has  given  her  heart  to  the  gallant  duellist. 
Hopes  and  fears,  joy  and  grief  contend  in  the  Vanderk 
habitation.  Sedaine  made  a  true  capture  of  a  little  pro- 
vince of  nature.  When  Mercier  (1740-1814)  tried  to 
write  in  the  same  vein,  his  "  nature "  was  that  of^  de- 
clamatory sentiment  imposed  upon  trivial  incidents. 
Beaumarchais,  in  his  earlier  pieces,  was  tearful  and 
romantic  ;  happily  he  repented  him  of  his  lugubrious 
sentiment,  and  restored  to  France  its  old  gaiety  in  the 


266  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

Barbier  de  Seville  and  the  inimitable  Mariage  de  Figaro ; 
but  amid  the  mirth  of  Figaro  can  be  heard  the  detona- 
tion of  approaching  revolutionary  conflict. 


IV 

The  history  of  the  novel  in  the  eighteenth  century  cor- 
responds with  the  general  movement  of  ideas  ;  the  novel 
begins  as  art,  and  proceeds  to  propagandism.  ALAIN- 
RENE  LESAGE,  born  at  Sarzeau,  near  Vannes,  in  1668, 
belongs  as  much  to  the  seventeenth  as  to  the  eighteenth 
century.  His  life  of  nearly  eighty  years  (died  1747)  was 
the  honourable  life  of  a  bourgeois,  who  was  also  a  man 
of  genius,  and  who  maintained  his  own  independence 
and  that  of  his  wife  and  children  by  the  steadfast  dili- 
gence of  his  pen.  He  was  no  passionate  reformer,  no 
preacher  of  ideas  ;  he  observed  life  and  human  nature 
with  shrewd  common-sense,  seeing  men  in  general  as 
creatures  in  whom  good  and  evil  are  mixed  ;  his  imagi- 
nation combined  and  vivified  all  he  had  observed ;  and 
he  recorded  the  results  of  his  study  of  the  world  in  a 
style  admirable  for  naturalness  and  ease,  though  these 
were  not  attained  without  the  careful  practice  of  literary 
art. 

From  translations  for  the  readers  of  fiction  and  for 
the  theatre,  he  advanced  to  free  adaptations,  and  from 
these  to  work  which  may  be  called  truly  original. 
Directed  by  the  Abbe  de  Lyonne  to  Spanish  literature, 
he  endeavoured  in  his  early  plays  to  preserve  what  was 
brilliant  and  ingenious  in  the  works  of  Spanish  drama- 
tists, and  to  avoid  what  was  strained  and  extravagant. 
In  his  Crispin  Rival  de  son  Maitre  (1707),  in  which  the 


LESAGE  267 

roguish  valet  aspires  to  carry  off  his  master's  betrothed 
and  her  fortune,  he  borrows  only  the  idea  of  Mendoza's 
play  ;  the  conduct  of  the  action,  the  dialogue,  the  char- 
acters are  his  own.  His  prose  story  of  the  same  year, 
Le  Diable  Boiteux,  owes  but  little  to  the  suggestion 
derived  from  Guevara  ;  it  is,  in  fact,  more  nearly  re- 
lated to  the  Caracteres  of  La  Brnyere ;  when  Asmodeus 
discloses  what  had  been  hidden  under  the  house-roofs 
of  the  city,  a  succession  of  various  human  types  are 
presented,  and,  as  in  the  case  of  La  Bruyere,  contem- 
poraries attempted  to  identify  these  with  actual  living 
persons. 

In  his  remarkable  satiric  comedy  7'urcaret,  and  in  his 
realistic  novel  Gil  Bias,  Lesage  enters  into  full  pos- 
session of  his  own  genius.  Turcaret,  ou  le  Financier,  was 
completed  early  in  1708  ;  the  efforts  of  the  financiers 
to  hinder  its  performance  served  in  the  end  to  enhance 
its  brief  and  brilliant  success.  The  pitiless  amasser  of 
wealth,  Turcaret,  is  himself  the  dupe  of  a  coquette, 
who  in  her  turn  is  the  victim  of  a  more  contemptible 
swindler.  Lesage,  presenting  a  fragment  of  the  man- 
ners and  morals  of  his  day,  keeps  us  in  exceedingly 
ill  company,  but  the  comic  force  of  the  play  lightens 
the  oppression  of  its  repulsive  characters.  It  is  the 
first  masterpiece  of  the  eighteenth -century  comedie  de 
mceurs* 

Much  of  Lesage's  dramatic  work  was  produced  only 
for  the  hour  or  the  moment — pieces  thrown  off,  some- 
times with  brilliance  and  wit,  for  the  Theatres  de  la  Foire, 
where  farces,  vaudevilles,  and  comic  opera  were  popular. 
They  served  to  pay  for  the  bread  of  his  household.  His 
great  comedy,  however,  a  comedy  in  a  hundred  acts,  is 
the  story  of  Gil  Bias.  Its  composition  was  part  of  his 


268  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

employment  during  many  years;  the  first  volumes  ap- 
peared in  1715,  the  last  volume  in  1735.  The  question 
of  a  Spanish  original  for  the  story  is  settled — there  was 
none  ;  but  from  Spanish  fiction  and  from  Spanish  history 
Lesage  borrowed  what  suited  his  purpose,  without  in  any 
way  compromising  his  originality.  To  the  picaresque 
tales  (ancj  among  these  may  be  noted  a  distant  precursor 
of  Gil  Bias  in  the  Francion  of  Charles  Sorel)  he  added  his 
own  humanity,  and  in  place  of  a  series  of  vulgar  adven- 
tures we  are  given  a  broad  picture  of  social  life  ;  the 
comedy  of  manners  and  intrigue  grows,  as  the  author 
proceeds,  into  a  comedy  of  character,  and  to  this  some- 
thing of  the  historical  novel  is  added.  The  unity  of  the 
book  is  found  in  the  person  of  Gil  Bias  himself  :  he  is  far 
from  being  a  hero,  but  he  is  capable  of  receiving  all  im- 
pressions ;  he  is  an  excellent  observer  of  life,  his  temper 
is  bright,  he  is  free  from  ill-nature  ;  we  meet  in  him  a 
pleasant  companion,  and  accompany  him  with  sympathy 
through  the  amusing  Odyssey  of  his  varied  career. 

As  a  moralist  Lesage  is  the  reverse  of  severe,  but  he  is 
far  from  being  base.  "  All  is  easy  and  good-humoured," 
wrote  Sir  Walter  Scott,  "  gay,  light,  and  lively ;  even  the 
cavern  of  the  robbers  is  illuminated  with  a  ray  of  that  wit 
with  which  Lesage  enlightens  his  whole  narrative.  It  is 
a  work  which  renders  the  reader  pleased  with  himself 
and  with  mankind,  where  faults  are  placed  before  him  in 
the  light  of  follies  rather  than  vices,  and  where  misfor- 
tunes are  so  interwoven  with  the  ludicrous  that  we  laugh 
in  the  very  act  of  sympathising  with  them."  In  the  earlier 
portion  incidents  preponderate  over  character  ;  in  the 
close,  some  signs  of  the  writer's  fatigue  appear.  Of 
Lesage's  other  tales  and  translations,  Le  Bachelier  de 
Salamanque  (1736)  takes  deservedly  the  highest  rank. 


MARIVAUX  269 

With  PIERRE  CARLET  DE  CHAMBLAIN  DE  MARIVAUX 
(1688-1763)  the  novel  ceases  to  be  primarily  a  study  of 
manners  or  a  romance  of  adventures;  it  becomes  an 
analysis  of  passions  to  which  manners  and  adventures 
are  subordinate.  As  a  journalist  he  may  be  said  to  have 
proceeded  from  Addison  ;  by  his  novels  he  prepared  the 
way  for  Richardson  and  for  Rousseau.  His  early  tra- 
vesties of  Homer  and  of  Fenelon's  Telemaque  seem  to 
indicate  a  tendency  towards  realism,  but  Marivaux's 
realism  took  the  form  not  so  much  of  observation  of 
society  in  its  breadth  and  variety  as  of  psychological 
analysis.  If  he  did  not  know  the  broad  highway  of 
the  heart,  he  traversed  many  of  its  secret  paths.  His 
was  a  feminine  spirit,  delicate,  fragile,  curious,  uncon- 
cerned about  general  ideas  ;  and  yet,  while  untiring  in 
his  anatomy  of  the  passions,  he  was  not  truly  passionate  ; 
his  heart  may  be  said  to  have  been  in  his  head. 

In  the  opening  of  the  eighteenth  century  there  was  a 
revival  of  preciosity,  which  Moliere  had  never  really 
killed,  and  in  the  salon  of  Madame  de  Lambert,  Marivaux 
may  have  learned  something  of  his  metaphysics  of  love 
and  something  of  his  subtleties  or  affectations  of  style. 
He  anticipates  the  sensibility  of  the  later  part  of  the 
century ;  but  sensibility  with  Marivaux  is  not  profound, 
and  it  is  relieved  by  intellectual  vivacity.  His  con- 
ception of  love  has  in  it  not  a  little  of  mere  gallantry. 
Like  later  eighteenth-century  writers,  he  at  once  exalts 
"virtue,"  and  indulges  his  fancy  in  a  licence  which  does 
not  tend  towards  good  morals  or  manners.  His  Vie  de 
Marianne  (1731-41),  which  occupied  him  during  many 
years,  is  a  picture  of  social  life,  and  a  study,  sometimes 
infinitely  subtle,  of  the  emotions  of  his  heroine ;  her 
genius  for  coquetry  is  finely  allied  to  her  maiden  pride  ; 


270  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

the  hypocrite,  M.  de  Climal — old  angel  fallen — is  a  new 
variety  of  the  family  of  Tartufe.  Le  Paysan  Parvenu 
(1735-36),  which  tells  of  the  successes  of  one  whom 
women  favour,  is  on  a  lower  level  of  art  and  of  morals. 
Both  novels  were  left  unfinished ;  and  while  both  attract, 
they  also  repel,  and  finally  weary  the  reader.1  Their 
influence  was  considerable  in  converting  the  romance 
of  adventures  into  the  romance  of  emotional  incident 
and  analysis. 

The  work  of  Marivaux  for  the  stage  is  more  important 
than  his  work  in  prose  fiction.  His  comedy  has  been 
described  as  the  tragedy  of  Racine  transposed,  with  love 
leading  to  marriage,  not  to  death.  Love  is  his  central 
theme — sometimes  in  conflict  with  self-love — and  women 
are  his  protagonists.  He  discovers  passion  in  its  germ, 
and  traces  it  through  its  shy  developments.  His  plays  are 
little  romances  handled  in  dramatic  fashion  ;  each  records 
some  delicate  adventure  of  the  heart.  He  wrote  much  for 
the  Comedie-Italienne,  where  he  did  not  suffer  from  the 
tyranny  of  rules  and  models,  and  where  his  graceful 
fancy  had  free  play.  Of  his  Urge  repertoire,  the  most 
admirable  pieces  are  Le  Jeu  de  I1  Amour  et  du  Hasard 
(1730)  and  Les  Fausses  Confidences  (1732).  In  the  former 
the  heroine  and  her  chambermaid  exchange  costumes ; 
the  hero  and  his  valet  make  a  like  exchange  ;  yet  love 
is  not  misled,  and  heroine  and  hero  find  each  other 
through  their  disguises.  In  Les  Fausses  Confidences  the 
young  widow  Araminte  is  won  to  a  second  love  in  spite 
of  her  resolve,  and  becomes  the-  happy  victim  of  her 
own  tender  heart  and  of  the  devices  of  her  assailants. 
The  "  marivaudage  "  of  Marivaux  is  sometimes  a  refined 

1  The  twelfth  part  of  Marianne  is  by  Madam  Riccoboni.     Only  five  parts 
of  the  Paysan  are  by  Marivaux. 


THE  ABBE  PREVOST  271 

and  novel  mode  of  expressing  delicate  shades  and  half- 
shades  of  feeling ;  sometimes  an  over-refined  or  over- 
subtle  attempt  to  express  ingenuities  of  sentiment,  and 
the  result  is  then  frigid,  pretentious,  or  pedantic.  No 
one  excelled  him  in  the  art,  described  by  Voltaire,  of 
weighing  flies'  eggs  in  gossamer  scales. 

The  Abbe  A.-F.  PR£VOST  D'EXILES  (1697-1763)  is 
remembered  by  a  single  tale  of  rare  power  and  beauty, 
Manon  Lescaut,  but  his  work  in  literature  was  voluminous 
and  varied.  Having  deserted  his  Benedictine  monastery 
in  1728,  he  led  for  a  time  an  irregular  and  wandering  life 
in  England  and  Holland  ;  then  returning  to  Paris,  he 
gained  a  living  by  swift  and  ceaseless  production  for  the 
booksellers.  In  his  journal,  Le  Pour  et  le  Contre,  he  did 
much  to  inform  his  countrymen  respecting  English 
literature,  and  among  his  translations  are  those  of  Rich- 
ardson's Pamela,  Sir  Charles  Grandison,  and  Clarissa 
Harlowe.  Many  of  his  novels  are  melodramatic  narra- 
tives of  romantic  adventure,  having  a  certain  kinship 
to  our  later  romances  of  Anne  Radcliffe  and  Matthew 
Gregory  Lewis,  in  which  horror  and  pity,  blood  and 
tears  abound.  Sometimes,  however,  when  he  writes  of 
passion,  wre  feel  that  he  is  engaged  in  no  sport  of  the 
imagination,  but  transcribing  the  impulsive  speech  of  his 
own  tumultuous  heart.  The  Memoires  d'un  Homme  de 
Qualite,  Cleveland,  Le  Doyen  de  Killerine  are  tragic  narra- 
tives, in  which  love  is  the  presiding  power. 

Manon  Lescaut,  which  appeared  in  1731,  as  an  episode 
of  the  first  of  these,  is  a  tale  of  fatal  and  irresistible 
passion.  The  heroine  is  divided  in  heart  between  her 
mundane  tastes  for  luxury  and  her  love  for  the  Cheva- 
lier des  Grieux.  He,  knowing  her  inconstancy  and  in- 
firmity, yet  cannot  escape  from  the  tyranny  of  the  spell 


272  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

which  has  subdued  him ;  his  whole  life  is  absorbed  and 
lost  in  his  devotion  to  Manon,  and  he  is  with  her  in 
the  American  wilds  at  the  moment  of  her  piteous  death. 
The  admirable  literary  style  of  Manon  Lescaut  is  unfelt 
and  disappears,  so  directly  does  it  bring  us  into  contact 
with  the  motions  of  a  human  heart. 

In  the  second  half  of  the  eighteenth  century,  philosophy, 
on  the  one  hand,  invaded  the  novel  and  the  short  tale  ; 
on  the  other  hand  it  was  invaded  by  a  flood  of  sentiment. 
An  irritated  and  irritating  sensuality  could  accommodate 
itself  either  to  sentiment  or  to  philosophy.  Voltaire's 
tales  are,  in  narrative  form,  criticisms  of  belief  or  opinion 
which  scintillate  with  ironic  wit.  His  disciple,  Mar- 
montel,  would  "render  virtue  amiable"  in  his  Contes 
Moraux  (1761),  and  cure  the  ravage  of  passion  with  a 
canary's  song.  His  more  ambitious  Belisaire  seems  to 
a  modern  reader  a  masterpiece  in  the  genre  ennuyeux. 
His  Incas  is  exotic  without  colour  or  credibility.  Florian, 
with  little  skill,  imitated  the  Incas  and  Telemaque,  or  was 
feebly  idyllic  and  conventionally  pastoral  as  a  follower  of 
the  Swiss  Gessner.  Restif  de  la  Bretonne  could  be  gross, 
corrupt,  declamatory,  sentimental,  humanitarian  in  turns 
or  all  together.  Three  names  are  eminent — that  of 
Diderot,  who  flung  his  good  and  evil  powers,  mingling 
and  fermenting,  into  his  novels  as  into  all  else  ;  that  of 
Rousseau,  who  interpreted  passion,  preached  its  re- 
straints, depicted  the  charms  of  the  domestic  interior, 
and  presented  the  glories  of  external  nature  in  La  Nou- 
velle  Heloise ;  that  of  Bernardin  de  Saint-Pierre,  who 
reaches  a  hand  to  Rousseau  on  the  one  side,  and  on  the 
other  to  Chateaubriand. 


CHAPTER   II 

MONTESQUIEU— VAUVENARGUES— VOLTAIRE 

I 

THE  author  of  De  I 'Esprit  des  Lois  was  as  important  in 
the  history  of  European  speculation  as  in  that  of  French 
literature  ;  but  inevitable  changes  of  circumstances  and 
ideas  have  caused  his  influence  to  wane.  His  life  was 
one  in  which  the  great  events  were  thoughts.  Charles- 
Louis  de  Secondat,  Baron  de  MONTESQUIEU,  was  born 
in  1689  at  La  Brede,  near  Bordeaux.  After  his  years  of 
education  by  the  Oratorians,  which  left  him  with  some- 
thing of  scepticism  in  his  intellect,  and  something  of 
stoicism  in  his  character,  he  pursued  legal  studies,  and  in 
1716  became  President  of  the  Parliament  of  Bordeaux. 
The  scientific  researches  of  his  day  attracted  him ; 
investigating  anatomy,  botany,  natural  philosophy,  the 
history  of  the  earth,  he  came  to  see  man  as  a  portion  of 
nature,  or  at  least  as  a  creature  whose  life  is  largely 
determined  by  natural  laws.  With  a  temper  of  happy 
serenity,  and  an  admirable  balance  of  faculties,  he  was 
possessed  by  an  eager  intellectual  curiosity.  "  I  spend 
my  life,"  he  said,  "in  examining;  everything  interests, 
everything  surprises  me." 

Nothing,  however,   interested  him   so  much   as  the 
phenomena  of  human  society  ;  he  had  no  aptitude  for 

273 


274  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

metaphysical  speculations  ;  his  feeling  for  literature  and 
art  was  defective  ;  he  honoured  the  antique  world,  but  it 
was  the  Greek  and  Latin  historians  and  the  ideals  of 
Roman  virtue  and  patriotism  which  most  deeply  moved 
him.  At  the  same  time  he  was  a  man  of  his  own  genera- 
tion, and  while  essentially  serious,  he  explored  the  frivo- 
lous side  of  life,  and  yielded  his  imagination  to  the  licence 
of  the  day. 

With  enough  wit  and  enough  wantonness  to  capture  a 
multitude  of  readers,  the  Lettres  Persanes  (1721)  contain  a 
serious  criticism  of  French  society  in  the  years  of  the 
Regency.  It  matters  little  that  the  idea  of  the  book  may 
have  been  suggested  by  the  Siamese  travellers  of  Du- 
fresny's  Amusements ;  the  treatment  is  essentially  original. 
Things  Oriental  were  in  fashion — Galland  had  translated 
the  Arabian  Nights  (1704-1708) — and  Montesquieu  de- 
lighted in  books  of  travel  which  told  of  the  manners, 
customs,  religions,  governments  of  distant  lands.  His 
Persians,  Usbek  and  Rica,  one  the  more  philosophical, 
the  other  the  more  satirical,  visit  Europe,  inform  their 
friends  by  letter  of  all  the  aspects  of  European  and  espe- 
cially of  French  life,  and  receive  tidings  from  Persia  of 
affairs  of  the  East,  including  the  troubles  and  intrigues 
of  the  eunuchs  and  ladies  of  the  harem.  The  spirit  of  the 
reaction  against  the  despotism  of  Louis  XIV.  is  expressed 
in  Montesquieu's  pages  ;  the  spirit  also  of  religious  free- 
thought,  and  the  reaction  against  ecclesiastical  tyranny. 
A  sense  of  the  dangers  impending  over  society  is  present, 
and  of  the  need  of  temperate  reform.  Brilliant,  daring, 
ironical,  licentious  as  the  Persian  Letters  are,  the  pre- 
vailing tone  is  that  of  judicious  moderation  ;  and  already 
something  can  be  discerned  of  the  large  views  and  wise 
liberality  of  the  Esprit  des  Lois.  The  book  is  valuable 


MONTESQUIEU  275 

to   us  still  as  a  document  in  the  social  history  of  the 
eighteenth  century. 

In  Paris,  Montesquieu  formed  many  distinguished  ac- 
quaintances, among  others  that  of  Mdlle.  de  Clermont, 
sister  of  the  Duke  de  Bourbon.  Perhaps  it  was  in 
homage  to  her  that  he  wrote  his  prose-poem,  which 
pretends  to  be  a  translation  from  the  Greek,  Le  Temple 
de  Guide  (1725).  Its  feeling  for  antiquity  is  overlaid  by 
the  artificialities,  long  since  faded,  of  his  own  day— 
"  naught  remains,"  writes  M.  Sorel,  "  but  the  faint  and 
subtle  perfume  of  a  sachet  long  hidden  in  a  rococo 
cabinet."  Although  his  publications  were  anonymous, 
Montesquieu  was  elected  a  member  of  the  Academy 
in  1728,  and  almost  immediately  after  this  he  quitted 
France  for  a  long  course  of  travel  throughout  Europe, 
undertaken  with  the  purpose  of  studying  the  manners, 
institutions,  and  governments  of  foreign  lands.  At 
Venice  he  gained  the  friendship  of  Lord  Chesterfield, 
and  they  arrived  together  in  England,  where  for  nearly 
two  years  Montesquieu  remained,  frequently  hearing  the 
parliamentary  debates,  and  studying  the  principles  of 
English  politics  in  the  writings  of  Locke.  His  thoughts 
on  government  were  deeply  influenced  by  his  admira- 
tion of  the  British  constitution  with  its  union  of  freedom 
and  order  attained  by  a  balance  of  the  various  political 
powers  of  the  State.  On  Montesquieu's  return  to  La 
Brede  he  occupied  himself  with  that  great  work  which 
resumes  the  observations  and  meditations  of  twenty 
years,  the  Esprit  des  Lois.  In  the  history  of  Rome, 
which  impressed  his  imagination  with  its  vast  moral, 
social,  and  political  significance,  he  found  a  signal 
example  of  the  causes  which  lead  a  nation  to  greatness 
and  the  causes  which  contribute  to  its  decline.  The 


276  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

study  made  at  this  point  of  view  detached  itself  from  the 
more  comprehensive  work  which  he  had  undertaken,  and 
in  1734  appeared  his  Considerations  sur  les  Causes  de  la 
Grandeur  et  de  la  Decadence  des  Remains. 

Bossuet  had  dealt  nobly  with  Roman  history,  but 
in  the  spirit  of  a  theologian  expounding  the  course 
of  Divine  Providence  in  human  affairs.  Montesquieu 
studied  the  operation  of  natural  causes.  His  know- 
ledge, indeed,  was  incomplete,  but  it  was  the  knowledge 
afforded  by  the  scholarship  of  his  own  time.  The  love 
of  liberty,  the  patriotic  pride,  the  military  discipline,  the 
education  in  public  spirit  attained  by  discussion,  the 
national  fortitude  under  reverses,  the  support  given  to 
peoples  against  their  rulers,  the  respect  for  the  religion 
of  conquered  tribes  and  races,  the  practice  of  dealing 
at  one  time  with  only  a  single  hostile  power,  are  pointed 
out  as  contributing  to  the  supremacy  of  Rome  in  the 
ancient  world.  Its  decadence  is  explained  as  the  gradual 
re. suit  of  its  vast  overgrowth,  its  civil  wars,  the  loss  of 
patriotism  among  the  soldiery  engaged  in  remote  pro- 
vinces, the  inroads  of  luxury,  the  proscription  of  citizens, 
the  succession  of  'unworthy  rulers,  the  division  of  the 
Empire,  the  incursion  of  the  barbarians;  and  in  treating 
this  portion  of  his  subject  Montesquieu  may  be  said  to 
be  wholly  original.  A  short  Dialogue  de  Sylla  et  dEucrate 
may  be  viewed  as  a  pendant  to  the  Considerations,  dis- 
cussing a  fragment  of  the  subject  in  dramatic  form. 
Montesquieu's  desire  to  arrive  at  general  truths  some- 
times led  him  to  large  conclusions  resting  on  too  slender 
a  basis  of  fact ;  but  the  errors  in  applying  his  method 
detract  only  a  little  from  the  service  which  he  rendered 
to  thought  in  a  treatment  of  history  at  least  tending  in 
the  direction  of  philosophic  truth. 


THE  ESPRIT  DES  LOIS  277 

The  whole  of  his  mind — almost  the  whole  of  his  exist- 
ence— is  embodied  in  the  Esprit  des  Lois  (1748).  It  lacks 
the  unity  of  a  ruling  idea ;  it  is  deficient  in  construction, 
in  continuity,  in  cohesion ;  much  that  it  contains  has 
grown  obsolete  or  is  obsolescent ;  yet  in  the  literature  of 
eighteenth-century  thought  it  takes,  perhaps,  the  highest 
place  ;  and  it  must  always  be  precious  as  the  self-reveal- 
ment  of  a  great  intellect — swift  yet  patient,  ardent  yet 
temperate,  liberal  yet  the  reverse  of  revolutionary — an 
intellect  that  before  all  else  loved  the  light.  It  lacks 
unity,  because  its  author's  mind  was  many-sided,  and 
he  would  not  suppress  a  portion  of  himself  to  secure  a 
factitious  unity.  Montesquieu  was  a  student  of  science, 
who  believed  in  the  potency  of  the  laws  of  nature,  and 
he  saw  that  human  society  is  the  product  of,  or  at  least 
is  largely  modified  by,  natural  law ;  he  was  also  a  be- 
liever in  the  power  of  human  reason  and  human  will, 
an  admirer  of  Roman  virtue,  a  citizen,  a  patriot,  and  a 
reformer.  He  would  write  the  natural  history  of  humajn 
laws,  exhibit  the  invariable  principles  from  which  they 
proceed,  and  reduce  the  study  of  governments  to  a 
science  ;  but  at  the  same  time  he  would  exhibit  how 
society  acts  upon  itself;  he  would  warn  and  he  would 
exhort ;  he  would  help,  if  possible,  to  create  intelligent 
and  patriotic  citizens.  To  these  intentions  we  may 
add  another — that  of  a  criticism,  touched  with  satire,  of 
the  contemporary  political  and  social  arrangements  of 
France. 

And  yet  again,  Montesquieu  was  a  legist,  with  some  of 
the  curiosity  of  an  antiquary,  not  without  a  pride  in  his 
rank,  interested  in  its  origins,  and  desirous  to  trace  the 
history  of  feudal  laws  and  privileges.  The  Esprit  des 
Lois  is  not  a  doctrinaire  exposition  of  a  theory,  but  the 


278  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

record  of  a  varied  life  of  thought,  in  which  there  are 
certain  dominant  tendencies,  but  no  single  absolute  idea. 
The  forms  of  government,  according  to  Montesquieu, 
are  three  —  republic  (including  both  the  oligarchical 
republic  and  the  democratic),  monarchy,  despotism. 
Each  of  these  structural  arrangements  requires  a  prin- 
ciple, a  moral  spring,  to  give  it  force  and  action  :  the 
popular  republic  lives  by  virtue  of  patriotism,  public 
spirit,  the  love  of  equality  ;  the  aristocratic  republic  lives 
by  the  spirit  of  moderation  among  the  members  of  the 
ruling  class  ;  monarchy  lives  by  the  stimulus  of  honour, 
the  desire  of  superiority  and  distinction  ;  despotism  draws 
its  vital  force  from  fear  ;  but  each  of  these  principles 
may  perish  through  its  corruption  or  excess.  The  laws 
of  each  country,  its  criminal  and  civil  codes,  its  system 
of  education,  its  sumptuary  regulations,  its  treatment  of 
the  relation  of  the  sexes,  are  intimately  connected  with 
the  form  of  government,  or  rather  with  the  principle 
which  animates  that  form. 

Laws,  under  the  several  forms  of  government,  are  next 
considered  in  reference  to  the  power  of  the  State  for 
purposes  of  defence  and  of  attack.  The  nature  of  poli- 
tical liberty  is  investigated,  and  the  requisite  separation 
of  the  legislative,  judicial,  and  administrative  powers  is 
exhibited  m  the  example  set  forth  in  the  British  con- 
stitution. But  political  freedom  must  include  the  liberty 
of  the  individual ;  the  rights  of  the  citizen  must  be 
respected  and  guaranteed  ;  and,  as  part  of  the  regulation 
of  individual  freedom,  the  levying  and  collection  of  taxes 
must  be  studied. 

From  this  subject  Montesquieu  passes  to  his  theory, 
once  celebrated,  of  the  influence  of  climate  and  the  soil 
upon  the  various  systems  of  legislation,  and  especially 


THE  ESPRIT  DES  LOIS  279 

the  influence  of  climate  upon  the  slave  system,  the  virtual 
servitude  of  woman,  and  the  growth  of  political  despotism. 
Over  against  the  fatalism  of  climate  and  natural  condi- 
tions he  sets  the  duty  of  applying  the  reason  to  modify 
the  influences  of  external  nature  by  wise  institutions, 
National  character,  and  the  manners  and  customs  which 
are  its  direct  expression,  if  they  cannot  be  altered  by 
laws,  must  be  respected,  and  something  even  of  direc- 
tion or  regulation  may  be  attained.  Laws  in  relation  to 
commerce,  to  money,  to  population,  to  religion,  are  dealt 
with  in  successive  books. 

The  duty  of  religious  toleration  is  urged  from  the  point 
of  view  of  a  statesman,  while  the  discussions  of  theology 
are  declined.  Very  noteworthy  is  the  humble  remon- 
strance to  the  inquisitors  of  Spain  and  Portugal  ascribed 
to  a  Jew  of  eighteen,  who  is  supposed  to  have  perished  in 
the  last  auto-da-fe.  The  facts  of  the  civil  order  are  not  to 
be  judged  by  the  laws  of  the  religious  order,  any  more 
than  the  facts  of  the  religious  order  are  to  be  judged 
by  civil  laws.  Here  the  great  treatise  might  have  closed, 
but  Montesquieu  adds  what  may  be  styled  an  historical 
appendix  in  his  study  of  the  origin  and  development  of 
feudal  laws.  At  a  time  when  antiquity  was  little  re- 
garded, he  was  an  ardent  lover  of  antiquity ;  at  a  time 
when  mediaeval  history  was  ignored,  he  was  a  student  of 
the  forgotten  centuries. 

Such  in  outline  is  the  great  work  which  in  large 
measure  modified  the  course  of  eighteenth  -  century 
thought.  Many  of  its  views  have  been  superseded  ; 
its  collections  of  facts  are  not  critically  dealt  with  ;  its 
ideas  often  succeed  each  other  without  logical  sequence  ; 
but  Montesquieu  may  be  said  to  have  created  a  method, 
if  not  a  science  ;  he  brought  the  study  of  jurisprudence 
19 


280  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

and  politics,  in  the  widest  sense,  into  literature,  laicising 
and  popularising  the  whole  subject ;  he  directed  history 
to  the  investigation  of  causes ;  he  led  men  to  feel  the 
greatness  of  the  social  institution  ;  and,  while  retiring 
from  view  behind  his  work,  he  could  not  but  exhibit,  for 
his  own  day  and  for  ours,  the  spectacle  of  a  great  mind 
operating  over  a  vast  field  in  the  interests  of  truth,  the 
spectacle  of  a  great  nature  that  loved  the  light,  hating 
despotism,  but  fearing  revolution,  sane,  temperate,  wisely 
benevolent.  In  years  tyrannised  over  by  abstract  ideas, 
his  work  remained  to  plead  for  the  concrete  and  the  his- 
torical ;  among  men  devoted  to  the  absolute  in  theory 
and  the  extreme  in  practice,  it  remained  to  justify  the 
relative,  to  demand  a  consideration  of  circumstances  and 
conditions,  to  teach  men  how  large  a  field  of  reform  lay 
within  the  bounds  of  moderation  and  good  sense. 

The  Esprit  des  Lois  was  denounced  by  Jansenists  and 
Jesuits;  it  was  placed  in  the  Index,  but  in  less  than  two 
years  twenty-two  editions  had  appeared,  and  it  was  trans- 
lated into  many  languages.  The  author  justified  it  bril- 
liantly in  his  Defense  of  1750.  His  later  writings  are  of 
small  importance.  With  failing  eyesight  in  his  declining 
years,  he  could  enjoy  the  society  of  friends  and  the  illumi- 
nation of  his  great  fame.  He  died  tranquilly  (1755)  at 
the  age  of  sixty-six,  in  the  spirit  of  a  Christian  Stoic. 


II 

The  life  of  society  was  studied  by  Montesquieu  ;  the 
inward  life  of  the  heart  was  studied  by  a  young  moralist, 
whose  premature  loss  was  lamented  with  tender  passion 
by  Voltaire. 


VAUVENARGUES  281 

Luc  de  Clapiers,  Marquis  de  VAUVENARGUES,  though 
neither  a  thinker  nor  a  writer  of  the  highest  order, 
attaches  us  by  the  beauty  of  his  character  as  seen  through 
his  half-finished  work,  more  than  any  other  author  of  the 
earlier  part  of  the  eighteenth  century.  He  was  born 
(1715)  at  Aix,  in  Provence,  received  a  scanty  education, 
served  in  the  army  during  more  than  ten  years,  retired 
with  broken  health  and  found  no  other  employment, 
lived  on  modest  resources,  enjoyed  the  acquaintance  of 
the  Marquis  de  Mirabeau  and  the  friendship  and  high 
esteem  of  Voltaire,  and  died  in  1747,  at  the  early  age  of 
thirty-two.  His  knowledge  of  literature  hardly  extended 
beyond  that  of  his  French  predecessors  of  the  seven- 
teenth century.  The  chief  influences  that  reached  him 
came  from  Pascal,  Bossuet,  and  Fenelon.  His  learning 
was  derived  from  action,  from  the  observation  of  men, 
and  from  acquaintance  with  his  own  heart. 

The  writings  of  Vauvenargues  are  the  fragmentary 
Introduction  a  la  Connaissance  de  r Esprit  Humain,  followed 
by  Reflexions  et  Maximes  (1746),  and  a  few  short  pieces 
of  posthumous  publication.  He  is  a  moralist,  who 
studies  those  elements  of  character  which  tend  to  action, 
and  turns  away  from  metaphysical  speculations.  His 
early  faith  in  Christianity  insensibly  declined  and  dis- 
appeared, but  his  spirit  remained  religious ;  he  believed 
in  God  and  immortality,  and  he  never  became  a  militant 
philosopher.  He  thought  generously  of  human  nature, 
but  without  extravagant  optimism.  The  reason,  acting 
alone,  he  distrusted ;  he  found  the  source  of  our 
highest  convictions  and  our  noblest  practice  in  the 
emotions,  in  the  heart,  in  the  obscure  depths  of  char- 
acter and  of  nature.  Here,  indeed,  is  Vauvenargues' 
originality.  In  an  age  of  ill  living,  he  conceived  a 


282  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

worthy  ideal  of  conduct ;  in  an  age  tending  towards 
an  exaggerated  homage  to  reason,  he  honoured  the 
passions  :  "  Great  thoughts  come  from  the  heart "  ;  "  We 
owe,  perhaps,  to  the  passions  the  greatest  gains  of  the 
intellect "  ;  "  The  passions  have  taught  men  reason." 

Vauvenargues,  with  none  of  the  violences  of  Rousseau's 
temperament,  none  of  the  excess  of  his  sensibility,  by 
virtue  of  his  recognition  of  the  potency  of  nature,  of 
the  heart,  may  be  called  a  precursor  of  Rousseau.  Into 
his  literary  criticism  he  carries  the  same  tendencies  :  it 
is  far  from  judicial  criticism  ;  its  merit  is  that  it  is  per- 
sonal and  touched  with  emotion.  His  total  work  seems 
but  a  fragment,  yet  his  life  had  a  certain  completeness ; 
he  knew  how  to  act,  to  think,  to  feel,  and  after  great 
sufferings,  borne  with  serenity,  he  knew  how  to  die. 


Ill 

The  movement  of  Voltaire's  mind  went  with  that  of 
the  general  mind  of  France.  During  the  first  half  of  the 
century  he  was  primarily  a  man  of  letters  ;  from  about 
1750  onwards  he  was  the  aggressive  philosopher,  the 
social  reformer,  using  letters  as  the  vehicle  of  militant 
ideas. 

Born  in  Paris  in  1694,  the  son  of  a  notary  of  good 
family,  FRANCOIS  -  MARIE  AROUET,  who  assumed  the 
name  VOLTAIRE  (probably  an  anagram  formed  from  the 
letters  of  Arouet  l.j.,  that  is  le  jeune),  was  educated  by 
the  Jesuits,  and  became  a  precocious  versifier  of  little 
pieces  in  the  taste  of  the  time.  At  an  early  age  he  was 
introduced  to  the  company  of  the  wits  and  fine  gentle- 
men who  formed  the  sceptical  and  licentious  Society  of 


VOLTAIRE'S  YOUTH  283 

the  Temple.  Old  Arouet  despaired  of  his  son,  who  was 
eager  for  pleasure,  and  a  reluctant  student  of  the  law. 
A  short  service  in  Holland,  in  the  household  of  the 
French  ambassador,  produced  no  better  result  than  a 
fruitless  love-intrigue. 

Again  in  Paris,  where  he  ill  endured  the  tedium  of  an 
attorney's  office,  Voltaire  haunted  the  theatres  and  the 
salons,  wrote  light  verse  and  indecorous  tales,  planned 
his  tragedy  CEdipe,  and,  inspired  by  old  M.  de  Caumar- 
tin's  enthusiasm  for  Henri  IV.,  conceived  the  idea  of 
his  Hcnriade.  Suspected  of  having  written  defamatory 
verses  against  the  Regent,  he  was  banished  from  the 
capital,  and  when  readmitted  was  for  eleven  months,  on 
the  suspicion  of  more  atrocious  libels,  a  prisoner  in  the 
Bastille.  Here  he  composed  —  according  to  his  own 
declaration,  in  sleep — the  second  canto  of  the  Henriadc, 
and  completed  his  CEdipe,  which  was  presented  with 
success  before  the  close  of  1718.  The  prisoner  of  the 
Bastille  became  the  favourite  of  society,  and  repaid 
his  aristocratic  hosts  by  the  brilliant  sallies  of  his 
conversation. 

A  second  tragedy,  A  rtemire,  afterwards  recast  as  Mari- 
amne,  was  ill  received  in  its  earlier  form.  Court  pensions, 
the  death  of  his  father,  and  lucky  financial  speculations 
brought  Voltaire  independence.  He  travelled  in  1722  to 
Holland,  met  Jean-Baptiste  Rousseau  on  the  way,  and 
read  aloud  for  his  new  acquaintance  Le  Pour  et  le  Contre, 
a  poem  of  faith  and  unfaith — faith  in  Deism,  disbelief 
in  Christianity.  The  meeting  terminated  with  untimely 
wit  at  Rousseau's  expense  and  mutual  hostility.  Unable 
to  obtain  the  approbation  for  printing  his  epic,  after- 
wards named  La  Henriade,  Voltaire  arranged  for  a  secret 
impression,  under  the  title  La  Ligue,  at  Rouen  (1723), 


284  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

whence  many  copies  were  smuggled  into  Paris.  The 
young  Queen,  Marie  Lecszinska,  before  whom  his 
Mariamne  and  the  comedy  L Indiscrct  were  presented, 
favoured  Voltaire.  His  prospects  were  bright,  when 
sudden  disaster  fell.  A  quarrel  in  the  theatre  with  the 
Chevalier  de  Rohan,  followed  by  personal  violence  at 
the  hands  of  the  Chevalier's  bullies,  ended  for  Voltaire, 
not  with  the  justice  which  he  demanded,  but  with  his 
own  lodgment  in  the  Bastille.  When  released,  with 
orders  to  quit  Paris,  he  thought  of  his  acquaintance 
and  admirer  Bolingbroke,  and  lost  no  time  in  taking 
refuge  on  English  soil. 

Voltaire's  residence  in  England  extended  over  three 
years  (1726-29).  Bolingbroke,  Peterborough,  Chester- 
field, Pope,  Swift,  Gay,  Thomson,  Young,  Samuel  Clarke 
were  among  his  acquaintances.  He  discovered  the 
genius  of  that  semi -barbarian  Shakespeare,  but  found 
the  only  reasonable  English  tragedy  in  Addison's  "  Cato." 
He  admired  the  epic  power  of  Milton,  and  scorned 
Milton's  allegory  of  Sin  and  Death.  He  found  a 
master  of  philosophy  in  Locke.  He  effected  a  partial 
entrance  into  the  scientific  system  of  Newton.  He  read 
with  zeal  the  writings  of  those  pupils  of  Bayle,  the 
English  Deists.  He  honoured  English  freedom  and 
the  spirit  of  religious  toleration.  In  1728  the  Henriade 
was  published  by  subscription  in  London,  and  brought 
the  author  prodigious  praise  and  not  a  little  pelf.  He 
collected  material  for  his  Histoire  de  Charles  XII.,  and, 
observing  English  life  and  manners,  prepared  the  Lettres 
Philosophiques,  which  were  to  make  the  mind  of  England 
favourably  known  to  his  countrymen. 

Charles  XII.,  like  La  Ligne,  was  printed  at  Rouen,  and 
smuggled  into  Paris.  The  tragedies  Brutus  and  £riphyle, 


VOLTAIRE  AT  CIREY  285 

both  of  which  show  the  influence  of  the  English  drama, 
were  coldly  received.  Voltaire  rose  from  his  fall,  and 
produced  Zaire  (1732),  a  kind  of  eighteenth-century 
French  "  Othello/'  which  proved  a  triumph ;  it  was 
held  that  Corneille  and  Racine  had  been  surpassed.  In 
1733  a  little  work  of  mingled  verse  and  prose,  the  Temple 
du  Gotit,  in  which  recent  and  contemporary  writers  were 
criticised,  gratified  the  self-esteem  of  some,  and  wounded 
the  vanity  of  a  larger  number  of  his  fellow-authors.  The 
Lettres  Philosophiques  sur  les  Anglais,  which  followed, 
were  condemned  by  the  Parliament  to  be  burnt  by 
the  public  executioner.  With  other  audacities  of  his 
pen,  the  storm  increased.  Voltaire  took  shelter  (1734) 
in  Champagne,  at  Cirey,  the  chateau  of  Madame  du 
Chatelet. 

Voltaire  was  forty  years  of  age  ;  Madame,  a  woman  of 
intellect  and  varied  culture,  was  twelve  years  younger. 
During  fifteen  years,  when  he  was  not  wandering 
abroad,  Cirey  was  the  home  of  Voltaire,  and  Madame 
du  Chatelet  his  sympathetic,  if  sometimes  his  exacting 
companion.  To  this  period  belong  the  dramas  Alzire, 
Zulime,  L' Enfant  Prodigue,  Mahomet,  Merope,  Nanine. 
The  divine  Emilie  was  devoted  to  science,  and  Voltaire 
interpreted  the  Newtonian  philosophy  to  France  or  dis- 
cussed questions  of  physics.  Many  admirable  pieces  of 
verse — ethical  essays  in  the  manner  of  Pope,  lighter  poems 
of  occasion,  Le  Mondain,  which  contrasts  the  golden  age  of 
simplicity  with  the  much  more  agreeable  age  of  luxury, 
and  many  besides — were  written.  Progress  was  made  with 
the  shameless  burlesque  on  Joan  of  Arc,  La  Pucelle.  In 
Zadig  Voltaire  gave  the  first  example  of  his  sparkling  tales 
in  prose.  Serious  historical  labours  occupied  him — after- 
wards to  be  published — the  Siecle  de  Louis  XIV.  and  the 


286  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

great  Essai  sur  les  Maurs.  In  1746,  with  the  support  of 
Madame  de  Pompadour,  he  entered  the  French  Academy. 
The  death  of  Madame  du  Chatelet,  in  1749,  was  a  cruel 
blow  to  Voltaire.  He  endeavoured  in  Paris  to  find  con- 
solation in  dramatic  efforts,  entering  into  rivalry  with  the 
aged  Crebillon. 

Among  Voltaire's  correspondents,  when  he  dwelt  at 
Cirey,  was  the  Crown  Prince  of  Prussia,  a  royal  pJiilo- 
sophe  and  aspirant  French  poet.  Royal  flatteries  were 
not  more  grateful  to  Voltaire  than  philosophic  and  lite- 
rary flatteries  were  to  Frederick.  Personal  acquaintance 
followed  ;  but  Fredefick  would  not  receive  Madame  du 
Chatelet,  and  Voltaire  would  not  desert  his  companion. 
Now  when  Madame  was  dead,  when  the  Pompadour 
ceased  from  her  favours  to  the  poet,  when  Louis  turned 
his  back  in  response  to  a  compliment,  Frederick  was  to 
secure  his  philosopher.  In  July  1750  Voltaire  was  in- 
stalled at  Berlin.  For  a  time  that  city  was  "  the  paradise 
of  philosophes" 

The  Siecle  de  Louis  XIV.  was  published  next  year. 
Voltaire's  insatiable  cupidity,  his  tricks,  his  tempers,  his 
vindictiveness,  shown  in  the  Diatribe  du  Docteur  Akakia 
(an  embittered  attack  on  Maupertuis),  alienated  the  King; 
when  "the  orange"  of  Voltaire's  genius  "was  sucked" 
he  would  "  throw  away  the  rind."  With  unwilling  delays, 
and  the  humiliation  of  an  arrest  at  Frankfort,  Voltaire 
escaped  from  the  territory  of  the  royal  "  Solomon  "  (1753), 
and  attracted  to  Switzerland  by  its  spirit  of  toleration, 
found  himself  in  1755  tenant  of  the  chateau  which  he 
named  Les  Delices,  near  Geneva,  his  "  summer  palace," 
and  that  of  Monrion,  his  "winter  palace,"  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Lausanne.  His  pen  was  busy  :  the  tragedy 
L'Orphelin  de  la  Chine,  tales,  fugitive  verses,  the  poem  on 


THE  PATRIARCH  OF  FERNEY  287 

the  earthquake  at  Lisbon,  with  its  doubtful  assertion  of 
Providence  as  a  slender  counterpoise  to  the  certainty  of 
innumerable  evils  in  the  world,  pursued  one  another  in 
varied  succession.  Still  keeping  in  his  hands  Les  Delices, 
he  purchased  in  1758  the  chateau  and  demesne  of  Ferney 
on  French  soil,  and  became  a  kind  of  prince  and  patriarch, 
a  territorial  lord,  wisely  benevolent  to  the  little  com- 
munity which  he  made  to  flourish  around  him,  and  at 
the  same  time  the  intellectual  potentate  of  Europe. 

Never  had  his  brain  been  more  alert  and  indefatigable. 
The  years  from  1760  to  1778  were  years  of  incessant 
activity.  Tragedy,  comedy,  opera,  epistles,  satires,  tales 
in  verse,  La  PucelleJ-  Le  Pauvre  Diable  (admirable  in  its 
malignity),  literary  criticism,  a  commentary  on  Corneille 
(published  for  the  benefit  of  the  great  dramatist's  grand- 
niece),  brilliant  tales  in  prose,  the  Essdi  sur  les  Mceurs  et 
F  Esprit  des  Nations,  the  Histoire  de  I' Empire  de  Russie  sous 
Pierre  le  Grand,  with  other  voluminous  historical  works, 
innumerable  writings  in  philosophy,  in  religious  polemics, 
including  many  articles  of  the  Dictionnaire  Philosophique, 
in  politics,  in  jurisprudence,  a  vast  correspondence  which 
extended  his  influence  over  the  whole  of  Europe — these 
are  but  a  part  of  the  achievement  of  a  sexagenarian 
progressing  to  become  an  octogenarian. 

His  work  was  before  all  else  a  warfare  against  in- 
tolerance and  in  favour  of  free  thought.  The  grand 
enemy  of  intellectual  liberty  Voltaire  saw  in  the  super- 
stition of  the  Church  ;  his  word  of  command  was 
short  and  uncompromising  —  Ecrasez  I'Infdme.  Jean 
Calas,  a  Protestant  of  Toulouse,  falsely  accused  of  the 
murder  of  his  son,  who  was  alleged  to  have  been  converted 
to  the  Roman  communion,  was  tortured  and  broken  on 

1  First  authorised  edition,  1762;  surreptitiously  printed,  1755. 


288  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

the  wheel.  Voltaire,  with  incredible  zeal,  took  up  the 
victim's  cause,  and  finally  established  the  dead  man's 
innocence.  Sirven,  a  Protestant,  declared  guilty  of  the 
murder  of  his  Roman  Catholic  daughter,  was  beggared 
and  banished  ;  Voltaire  succeeded,  after  eight  years,  in 
effecting  the  reversal  of  the  sentence.  La  Barre  was 
tortured  and  decapitated  for  alleged  impiety.  Voltaire 
was  not  strong  enough  to  overpower  the  French  magis- 
tracy supported  now  by  the  French  monarch.  He 
turned  to  Frederick  with  a  request  that  he  would 
give  shelter  to  a  colony  of  pkilosophes,  who  should 
through  the  printing-press  make  a  united  assault  upon 
FInfdme. 

In  the  early  days  of  1778,  Voltaire,  urged  by  friends, 
imprudently  consented  to  visit  Paris.  His  journey  was 
like  a  regal  progress;  his  reception  in  the  capital  was  an 
overwhelming  ovation.  In  March  he  was  ailing,  but  he 
rose  from  his  bed,  was  present  at  a  performance  of  his 
Irene,  and  became  the  hero  and  the  victim  of  extravagant 
popular  enthusiasm.  In  April  he  eagerly  pleaded  at  the 
French  Academy  for  a  new  dictionary,  and  undertook 
himself  to  superintend  the  letter  A.  In  May  he  was 
dangerously  ill;  on  the  26th  he  had  the  joy  of  learning 
that  his  efforts  to  vindicate  the  memory  of  the  unfor- 
tunate Count  Lally  were  crowned  with  success.  It  was 
Voltaire's  last  triumph  ;  four  days  later,  unshriven  and 
unhouseled,  he  expired.  Seldom  had  such  a  coil  of  elec- 
trical energy  been  lodged  within  a  human  brain.  His 
desire  for  intellectual  activity  was  a  consuming  passion. 
His  love  of  influence,  his  love  of  glory  were  boundless. 
Subject  to  spasms  of  intensest  rage,  capable  of  malig- 
nant trickery  to  gain  his  ends,  jealous,  mean,  irreverent, 
mendacious,  he  had  yet  a  heart  open  to  charity  and  pity, 


VOLTAIRE'S  RULING  IDEAS  289 

a  zeal  for  human  welfare,  a  loyalty  to  his  ruling  ideas, 
and  a  saving  good  sense  founded  upon  his  swift  and 
clear  perception  of  reality. 

Voltaire's  mind  has  been  described  as  "a  chaos  of 
clear  ideas."  It  is  easy  to  point  out  the  inconsistencies 
of  his  opinions,  yet  certain  dominant  thoughts  can  be 
distinguished  amid  the  chaos.  He  believed  in  a  God  ; 
the  arrangements  of  the  universe  require  a  designer ; 
the  idea  of  God  is  a  benefit  to  society — if  He  did  not 
exist,  He  must  be  invented.  But  to  suppose  that  the 
Deity  intervenes  in  the  affairs  of  the  world  is  super- 
stition ;  He  rules  through  general  laws — His  executive; 
He  is  represented  in  the  heart  of  man  by  His  viceroy 
— conscience.  The  soul  is  immortal,  and  God  is  just ; 
therefore  let  wrong-doers  beware.  In  L' Histoire  de  Jenni 
the  youthful  hero  is  perverted  by  his  atheistic  associates, 
and  does  not  fear  to  murder  his  creditor  ;  he  is  recon- 
verted to  theism,  and  becomes  one  of  the  best  men  in 
England.  As  to  the  evil  which  darkens  the  world,  we 
cannot  understand  it ;  let  us  not  make  it  worse  by  vain 
perplexities  ;  let  us  hope  that  a  future  life  will  right  the 
balance  of  things ;  and,  meanwhile,  let  us  attend  to  the 
counsels  of  moderation  and  good  sense  ;  let  the  narrow 
bounds  of  our  knowledge  at  least  teach  us  the  lesson 
of  toleration. 

Applied  to  history,  such  ideas  lead  Voltaire,  in  striking 
contrast  with  Bossuet,  to  ignore  the  supernatural,  to 
eliminate  the  Providential  order,  and  to  seek  the  expla- 
nation of  events  in  human  opinion,  in  human  sentiments, 
in  the  influence  of  great  men,  even  in  the  influence  of 
petty  accident,  the  caprice  of  sa  Majeste  le  Hasard.  In 
the  epoch  of  classical  antiquity — which  Voltaire  under- 
stood ill — man  had  advanced  from  barbarism  to  a  con- 


290  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

dition  of  comparative  well-being  and  good  sense  ;  in  the 
Christian  and  mediaeval  period  there  was  a  recoil  and 
retrogression ;  in  modern  times  has  begun  a  renewed 
advance.  In  fixing  attention  on  the  esprit  et  moeurs 
of  nations — their  manners,  opinions,  institutions,  senti- 
ments, prejudices — Voltaire  was  original,  and  rendered 
most  important  service  to  the  study  of  history.  Although 
his  blindness  to  the  significance  of  religious  phenomena 
is  a  grave  defect,  his  historical  scepticism  had  its  uses. 
As  a  writer  of  historical  narrative  he  is  admirably  lucid 
and  rapid  ;  nor  should  the  ease  of  his  narration  conceal 
the  fact  that  he  worked  laboriously  and  carefully  among 
original  sources.  With  his  Charles  XII.,  his  Pierre  le 
Grand,  his  Sicde  de  Louis  XIV.,  we  may  class  the  Hcn- 
riade  as  a  piece  of  history ;  its  imaginative  power  is  not 
that  of  an  epic,  but  it  is  an  interpretation  of  a  fragment 
of  French  history  in  the  light  of  one  generous  idea — 
that  of  religious  toleration. 

Filled  with  destructive  passion  against  the  Church, 
Voltaire,  in  affairs  of  the  State,  was  a  conservative.  His 
ideal  for  France  was  an  intelligent  despotism.  But  if  a 
conservative,  he  was  one  of  a  reforming  spirit.  He 
pleaded  for  freedom  in  the  internal  trade  of  province 
with  province,  for  legal  and  administrative  uniformity 
throughout  the  whole  country,  for  a  reform  of  the  magis- 
tracy, for  a  milder  code  of  criminal  jurisprudence,  for 
attention  to  public  hygiene.  His  programme  was  not 
ambitious,  but  it  was  reasonable,  and  his  efforts  for  the 
general  welfare  have  been  justified  by  time. 

As  a  literary  critic  he  was  again  conservative.  He 
belonged  to  the  classical  school,  and  to  its  least  liberal 
section.  He  regarded  literary  forms  as  imposed  from 
without  on  the  content  of  poetry,  not  as  growing  from 


VOLTAIRE'S  DRAMATIC  WORK  291 

within  ;  passion  and  imagination  he  would  reduce  to 
the  strict  bounds  of  uninspired  good  sense  ;  he  placed 
Virgil  above  Homer,  and  preferred  French  tragedy  to 
that  of  ancient  Greece  ;  from  his  involuntary  admiration 
of  Shakespeare  he  recoiled  in  alarm  ;  if  he  admired  Cor- 
neille,  it  was  with  many  reservations.  Yet  his  taste  was 
less  narrow  than  that  of  some  of  his  contemporaries ;  he 
had  a  true  feeling  for  the  genius  of  the  French  language; 
he  possessed,  after  the  manner  of  his  nation  and  his 
time,  le  grand  goilt ;  he  honoured  Boileau  ;  he  exalted 
Racine  in  the  highest  degree ;  and,  to  the  praise  of  his 
discernment,  it  may  be  said  that  he  discovered  Athalie. 

The  spectacular  effects  of  Athalie  impressed  Voltaire's 
imagination.  In  his  own  tragedies,  while  continuing  the 
seventeenth-century  tradition,  he  desired  to  exhibit  more 
striking  situations,  to  develop  more  rapid  action,  to 
enhance  the  dramatic  spectacle,  to  add  local  colour. 
His  style  and  speech  in  the  theatre  have  the  conven- 
tional monotonous  pomp,  the  conventional  monotonous 
grace,  without  poetic  charm,  imaginative  vision,  or  those 
flashes  which  spring  from  passionate  genius.  When,  as 
was  frequently  the  case,  he  wrote  for  the  stage  to  ad- 
vocate the  cause  of  an  idea,  to  preach  tolerance  or  pity, 
he  attained  a  certain  height  of  eloquence.  Whatever 
sensibility  there  was  in  Voltaire's  heart  may  be  dis- 
covered in  Za'ire.  Merope  has  the  distinction  of  being 
a  tragedy  from  which  the  passion  of  love  is  absent ;  its 
interest  rests  wholly  on  maternal  affection.  Tancrede  is 
remarkable  as  an  eighteenth -century  treatment  of  the 
chivalric  life  and  spirit.  The  Christian  temper  of 
tolerance  and  humanity  is  honoured  in  Alzire. 

Voltaire's  incomparable  gift  of  satirical  wit  did  not 
make  him  a  writer  of  high  comedy  :  he  could  be  gro- 


292  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

tesque  without  lightness  or  brightness.  But  when  a 
sentimental  element  mingles  with  the  comic,  and  almost 
obscures  it,  as  in  Nanine  (a  dramatised  tale  derived 
from  Richardson's  Pamela),  the  verse  acquires  a  grace, 
and  certain  scenes  an  amiable  charm.  Nanine,  indeed, 
though  in  dramatic  form,  lies  close  to  those  tales  in  verse 
in  which  Voltaire  mingled  happily  his  wisdom  and  his 
wit.  "The  philosophy  of  Horace  in  the  language  of 
La  Fontaine,  this,"  writes  a  critic,  "is  what  we  find 
from  time  to  time  in  Voltaire."  In  his  lighter  verses 
of  occasion,  epigram,  compliment,  light  mockery,  half- 
playful,  half-serious  sentiment,  he  is  often  exquisite. 

No  part  of  Voltaire's  work  has  suffered  so  little  at  the 
hands  of  time  as  his  tales  in  prose.  In  his  contributions 
to  the  satire  of  human-kind  he  learned  something  from 
Rabelais,  something  from  Swift.  It  is  the  satire  of  good 
sense  impatient  against  folly,  and  armed  with  the  darts 
of  wit.  Voltaire  does  not  esteem  highly  the  wisdom  of 
human  creatures  :  they  pretend  to  knowledge  beyond 
their  powers ;  they  kill  one  another  for  an  hypothesis  ; 
they  find  ingenious  reasons  for  indulging  their  base  or 
petty  passions ;  their  lives  are  under  the  rule  of  sa 
Majeste  le  Hasard.  But  let  us  not  rage  in  Timon's 
manner  against  the  human  race  ;  if  the  world  is  not 
the  best  of  all  possible  worlds,  it  is  not  wholly  evil.  Let 
us  be  content  to  mock  at  the  absurdity  of  the  universe, 
and  at  the  diverting,  if  irritating,  follies  of  its  inhabitants. 
Above  all,  let  us  find  support  in  work,  even  though 
we  do  not  see  to  what  it  tends  ;  "  II  faut  cultiver 
notre  jardin" — such  is  Voltaire's  word,  and  the  final 
word  of  Candide.  With  light  yet  effective  irony,  Vol- 
taire preaches  the  lesson  of  good  sense.  When  bitter, 
he  is  still  gay  ;  his  sad  little  philosophy  of  existence  is 


VOLTAIRE'S  CORRESPONDENCE  293 

uttered  with  an  accent  of  mirth ;  his  art  in  satirical 
narrative  is  perfect  ;  he  is  not  resigned  ;  he  is  not 
enraged  ;  he  is  indignant,  but  at  the  same  time  he 
smiles  ;  there  is  always  the  last  resource  of  blindly 
cultivating  our  garden. 

In  Voltaire's  myriad-minded  correspondence  the  whole 
man  may  be  found  —  his  fire,  his  sense,  his  universal 
curiosity,  his  wit,  his  malignity,  his  goodness,  his  Protean 
versatility,  his  ruling  ideas  ;  and  one  may  say  that  the 
whole  of  eighteenth-century  Europe  presses  into  the 
pages.  He  is  not  only  the  man  of  letters,  the  student  of 
science,  the  philosopher ;  he  is  equally  interested  in 
politics,  in  social  reform,  in  industry,  in  agriculture,  in 
political  economy,  in  philology,  and,  together  with  these, 
in  the  thousand  incidents  of  private  life. 


CHAPTER    III 

DIDEROT  AND  THE  ENCYCLOPAEDIA- 
PHILOSOPHERS,  ECONOMISTS,  CRITICS  — BUFFON 


"WHEN  I  recall  Diderot,"  wrote  his  friend  Meister,  "the 
immense  variety  of  his  ideas,  the  amazing  multiplicity  of 
his  knowledge,  the  rapid  flight,  the  warmth,  the  im- 
petuous tumult  of  his  imagination,  all  the  charm  and  all 
the  disorder  of  his  conversation,  I  venture  to  liken  his 
character  to  Nature  herself,  exactly  as  he  used  to  con- 
ceive her — rich,  fertile,  abounding  in  germs  of  every  sort 
.  .  .  without  any  dominating  principle,  without  a  master, 
and  without  a  God."  No  image  more  suitable  could  be 
found  ;  and  his  works  resemble  the  man,  in  their  rich- 
ness, their  fertility,  their  variety,  and  their  disorder.  A 
great  writer  we  can  hardly  call  him,  for  he  has  left  no 
body  of  coherent  thought,  no  piece  of  finished  art ;  but 
he  was  the  greatest  of  literary  improvisators. 

DENIS  DIDEROT,  son  of  a  worthy  cutler  of  Langres, 
was  born  in  1713.  Educated  by  the  Jesuits,  he  turned 
away  from  the  regular  professions,  and  supported  him- 
self and  his  ill-chosen  wife  by  hack-work  for  the  Paris 
booksellers — translations,  philosophical  essays  directed 
against  revealed  religion,  stories  written  to  suit  the  appe- 
tite for  garbage.  From  deism  he  advanced  to  atheism. 


294 


THE  ENCYCLOPEDIA  295 

Arguing  in  favour  of  the  relativity  of  human  knowledge 
in  his  Lettre  stir  les  Avcugles  (1749),  he  puts  his  plea  for 
atheism  into  the  lips  of  an  English  man  of  science,  but 
the  device  did  not  save  him  from  an  imprisonment  of 
three  months. 

In  1745  the  booksellers,  contemplating  a  translation  of 
the  English  "Cyclopaedia"  of  Chambers,  appliedto  Diderot 
for  assistance.  He  readily  undertook  the  task,  but  could 
not  be  satisfied  with  a  mere  translation.  In  a  Prospectus 
(1750)  he  indicated  the  design  of  the  "Encyclopaedia" 
as  he  conceived  it  :  the  order  and  connection  of  the 
various  branches  of  knowledge  should  be  set  forth,  and 
in  dictionary  form  the  several  sciences,  liberal  arts,  and 
mechanical  arts  should  be  dealt  with  by  experts.  The 
homage  which  he  rendered  to  science  expressed  the  mind 
of  his  time  ;  in  the  honour  paid  to  mechanical  toil  and 
industry  he  was  in  advance  of  his  age,  and  may  be  called 
an  organiser  of  modern  democracy.  At  his  request 
JEAN  LE  ROND  D'ALEMBERT  (1717-83)  undertook  the 
direction  of  the  mathematical  articles,  and  wrote  the 
Discours  Preliminaire,  which  classified  the  departments 
of  human  knowledge  on  the  basis  of  Bacon's  concep- 
tions, and  gave  a  survey  of  intellectual  progress.  It  was 
welcomed  with  warm  applause.  The  aid  of  Voltaire, 
Montesquieu,  Rousseau,  Buffon,  Turgot,  Quesnay,  and 
a  host  of  less  illustrious  writers  was  secured  ;  but  the 
vast  enterprise  excited  the  alarms  of  the  ecclesiastical 
party;  the  Jesuits  were  active  in  rivalry  and  opposition  ; 
Rousseau  deserted  and  became  an  enemy ;  D'Alembert, 
timid,  and  a  lover  of  peace,  withdrew.  In  1759  the 
privilege  of  publication  was  revoked,  but  the  Govern- 
ment did  not  enforce  its  own  decree.  Through  all 
difficulties  and  dangers  Diderot  held  his  ground.  One 


296  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

day  he  wrote  a  fragment  of  the  history  of  philosophy  ; 
the  next  he  was  in  a  workshop  examining  the  con- 
struction of  some  machine  :  nothing  was  too  great 
or  too  small  for  his  audacity  or  his  patience.  To 
achieve  the  work,  tact  was  needed  as  well  as  courage ; 
at  times  he  condescended  to  disguise  his  real  opinions, 
striving  to  weather  the  storm  by  yielding  to  it.  In  1765 
his  gigantic  labours  were  substantially  accomplished, 
though  the  last  plates  of  the  Encyclopedic  were  not  issued 
until  1772.  When  all  was  finished,  the  scientific  move- 
ment of  the  century  was  methodised  and  popularised; 
a  barrier  against  the  invasion  of  the  past  was  erected ; 
the  rationalist  philosophy,  with  all  its  truths  and  all  its 
errors,  its  knowledge  and  its  ignorance,  had  obtained  its 
Summa. 

But,  besides  this  co-operative  work,  Diderot  did  much, 
and  in  many  directions,  single-handed,  flinging  out  his 
thoughts  with  ardent  haste,  and  often  leaving  what  he 
had  written  to  the  mercies  of  chance ;  a  prodigal  sower 
of  good  and  evil  seed.  Several  of  his  most  remarkable 
pieces  came  to  light,  as  it  were,  by  accident,  and  long 
after  his  death.  His  novel  La  Religieuse  —  influenced 
to  some  extent  by  Richardson,  whom  he  supersti- 
tiously  admired — is  a  repulsive  exposure  of  conventual 
life  as  it  appeared  to  him,  and  of  its  moral  disorder. 
Jacques  le  Fataliste,  in  which  the  manner  is  coarsely 
imitated  from  Sterne,  a  book  ill- composed  and  often 
malodorous,  contains,  among  its  heterogeneous  tales,  one 
celebrated  narrative,  the  Histoire  de  Mme.  de  la  Pom- 
meraye,  relating  a  woman's  base  revenge  on  a  faithless 
lover.  If  anything  of  Diderot's  can  ba  named  a  master- 
piece, it  is  certainly  Le  Neveu  de  Rameau,  a  satire  and 
a  character-study  of  the  parasite,  thrown  into  the  form 


DIDEROT  AS  A  CRITIC  297 

of  dialogue,  which  he  handled  with  brilliant  success ; 
it  remained  unknown  until  the  appearance  of  a  German 
version  (1805),  made  by  Goethe  from  a  manuscript 
copy. 

In  his  Salons,  Diderot  elevated  and  enlarged  the  criti- 
cism of  the  pictorial  art  in  France.  His  eye  for  colour 
and  for  contour  was  admirable  ;  but  it  is  less  the 
technique  of  paintings  that  he  studies  than  the  sub- 
jects, the  ideas,  and  the  moral  significance.  Such 
criticism  may  be  condemned  as  literary  rather  than 
artistic  ;  it  was,  however,  new  and  instructive,  and  did 
much  to  quicken  the  public  taste.  Diderot  pleaded 
for  a  return  to  nature  in  the  theatre  ;  for  a  bourgeois 
drama,  domestic  tragedy  and  serious  comedy,  touched 
with  pathos,  studied  from  real  life,  and  inspired  by  a 
moral  purpose  ;  for  the  presentation  on  the  stage  of 
"conditions"  rather  than  individual  types — that  is,  of 
character  as  modified  by  social  environments  and  the 
habits  which  they  produce.  He  maintained  that  the 
actor  should  rather  possess  than  be  possessed  by  his 
theme,  should  be  the  master  rather  than  the  slave  of 
his  sensibility. 

The  examples  of  dramatic  art  which  Diderot  gave  in 
his  own  plays;  the  Pere  de  Famille  and  the  Fils  Naturel, 
are  poor  affectations  of  a  style  supposed  to  be  natural, 
and  are  patently  doctrinaire  in  their  design,  laboured 
developments  of  a  moral  thesis.  One  piece  in  which 
he  paints  himself,  Est-il  bon  ?  Est-il  mechant  ?  and  this 
alone,  falls  little  short  of  being  admirable,  and  yet  it 
fails  of  true  success. 

A  coherent  system  of  thought  cannot  be  found  in 
Diderot's  writings,  but  they  are  pregnant  with  ideas. 
He  is  deist,  pantheist,  atheist ;  he  is  a  materialist — one, 


298  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

however,  who  conceives  matter  not  as  inert,  but  quick 
with  force.  He  is  edifying  and  sincere  in  his  morality; 
and  presently  his  morals  become  the  doctrines  of  an 
anarchical  licence.  All  the  ideas  of  his  age  struggle 
within  him,  and  are  never  reduced  to  unity  or  har- 
mony ;  light  is  never  separate  in  his  nature  from  heat, 
and  light  and  warmth  together  give  rise  to  thoughts 
which  are  sometimes  the  anticipations  of  scientific 
genius ;  he  almost  leaps  forward  to  some  of  the  con- 
clusions of  Darwin.  His  great  powers  and  his  inces- 
sant energy  were  not  directed  to  worldly  prosperity. 
Diderot  was  never  rich.  The  Empress  Catherine  of 
Russia  magnificently  purchased  his  library,  and  en- 
trusted him  with  the  books,  as  her  librarian,  providing 
a  salary  which  to  him  was  wealth.  He  travelled  to  St. 
Petersburg  to  thank  her  in  person  for  her  generous 
and  delicate  gift.  But  her  imperial  generosity  was  not 
greater  than  his  own  ;  he  was  always  ready  to  lavish 
the  treasures  of  his  knowledge  and  thought  in  the 
service  of  others ;  no  small  fragment  of  his  work  was 
a  free  gift  to  his  friends,  and  passed  under  their  name ; 
Holbach  and  Raynal  were  among  his  debtors. 

His  correspondence  presents  a  vivid  image  of  the  man 
and  of  the  group  of  philosophers  to  which  he  belonged ; 
the  letters  addressed  to  Mdlle.  Volland,  to  whom  he  was 
devotedly  attached  during  many  years,  are  frank  be- 
trayals of  his  character  and  his  life.  Her  loss  saddened 
his  last  days,  but  the  days  of  sorrow  were  few.  In 
July  1784,  Diderot  died.  His  reputation  and  influence 
were  from  time  to  time  enhanced  by  posthumous  pub- 
lications. Other  writers  of  his  century  impressed  their 
own  personalities  more  distinctly  and  powerfully  upon 
society ;  no  other  writer  mingled  his  genius  so  com- 


THE  PHILOSOPHICAL  MOVEMENT        299 

pletely  with  external  things,  or  responded  so  fully  and 
variously  to  the  stimulus  of  the  spirit  of  his  age. 


II 

The  French  philosophical  movement — the  "  Illumina- 
tion " — of  the  eighteenth  century,  proceeds  in  part  from 
the  empiricism  of  Locke,  in  part  from  the  remarkable 
development  of  physical  and  natural  science  ;  it  incor- 
porated the  conclusions  of  English  deism,  and  advanced 
from  deism  to  atheism.  An  intellectual  centre  for  the 
movement  was  provided  by  the  Encyclopedic;  a  social 
centre  was  found  in  Parisian  salons.  It  was  sustained 
and  invigorated  by  the  passion  for  freedom  and  for 
justice  asserting  itself  against  the  despotism  and  abuses 
of  government  and  against  the  oppressions  and  abuses 
of  the  Church.  The  opposing  forces  were  feeble,  incom- 
petent, disorganised.  The  methods  of  government  were, 
in  truth,  indefensible ;  religion  had  surrendered  dogma, 
and  lost  the  austerity  of  morals  ;  within  the  citadel  of 
the  Church  were  many  professed  and  many  secret  allies 
of  the  philosophers. 

While  in  England  an  apologetic  literature  arose,  pro- 
found in  thought  and  adequate  in  learning,  in  France  no 
sustained  resistance  was  offered  to  the  inroad  of  free 
thought.  Episcopal  fulminations  rolled  like  stage  thun- 
der; the  Bastille  and  Vincennes  were  holiday  retreats 
for  fatigued  combatants  ;  imprisonment  was  tempered 
with  cajoleries  ;  the  censors  of  the  press  connived  with 
their  victims.  The  Chancellor  D'AGUESSEAU  (1668-1751), 
an  estimable  magistrate,  a  dignified  orator,  maintained 
the  old  seriousness  of  life  and  morals,  and  received  the 


300  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

reward  of  exile.  The  good  ROLLIN  (1661-1741)  dictated 
lessons  to  youth  drawn  from  antiquity  and  Christianity, 
narrated  ancient  history,  and  discoursed  admirably  on  a 
plan  of  studies  with  a  view  to  form  the  heart  and  mind ; 
an  amiable  Christian  Nestor,  he  was  not  a  man-at-arms. 
The  Abbe  Guenee  replied  to  Voltaire  with  judgment, 
\vit;  and  erudition,  in  his  Lettres  de  quelques  Juifs  (1769), 
but  it  was  a  single  victory  in  a  campaign  of  many  battles. 
The  satire  of  Gilbert,  Le  Dix-huitieme  Siecle,  is  rudely 
vigorous ;  but  Gilbert  was  only  an  angry  youth,  disap- 
pointed of  his  fame.  Freron,  the  "Wasp"  (frclori)  of 
Voltaire's  UEcossaise,  might  sting  in  his  Annc'e  Littc'raire, 
but  there  were  sharper  stings  in  satire  and  epigram 
which  he  must  endure.  Palissot  might  amuse  the  thea- 
trical spectators  of  1760  with  his  ridiculous  philosophers; 
the  Philosopher  was  taken  smilingly  by  Voltaire,  and  was 
sufficiently  answered  by  Morellet's  pamphlet  end  the 
bouts-rimes  of  Marmontel  or  Piron.  The  Voltairomanie 
of  Desfontaines  is  only  the  outbreak  of  resentment  of 
the  accomplished  and  disreputable  Abbe  against  a  bene- 
factor whose  offence  was  to  have  saved  him  from  the 
galleys. 

The  sensationalist  philosophy  is  inaugurated  by  JULIEN 
OFFRAY  DE  LA  METTRIE  (1709-51)  rather  than  by  Con- 
dillac.  A  physician,  making  observations  on  his  own 
case  during  an  attack  of  fever,  he  arrived  at  the  con- 
clusion that  thought  is  but  a  result  of  the  mechanism 
of  the  body.  Man  is  a  machine  more  ingeniously 
organised  than  the  brute.  All  ideas  have  their  origin 
in  sensation.  As  for  morals,  they  are  not  absolute,  but 
relative  to  society  and  the  State.  As  for  God,  perhaps 
He  exists,  but  why  should  we  worship  this  existence 
more  than  any  other  ?  The  law  of  our  being  is  to 


THE  SENSATIONALIST  SCHOOL  301 

seek  happiness  ;  the  law  of  society  is  that  we  should 
not  interfere  with  the  happiness  of  others.  The  pleasure 
of  the  senses  is  not  the  only  pleasure,  but  it  has  the 
distinction  of  being  universal  to  our  species. 

La  Mettrie,  while  opposing  the  spiritualism  of  Des- 
cartes, is  more  closely  connected  with  that  great  thinker, 
through  his  doctrine  that  brutes  are  but  machines,  than 
with  Locke.  It  is  from  Locke — though  from  Locke  muti- 
lated—that ETIENNE  BONNOT  DE  CONDILLAC  (1715-80) 
proceeds.  All  ideas  are  sensations,  but  sensations  trans- 
formed. Imagine  a  marble  statue  endowed  successively 
with  the  several  human  senses ;  it  will  be  seen  how 
perceptions,  consciousness,  memory,  ideas,  comparison, 
judgment,  association,  abstraction,  pleasure,  desire  are 
developed.  The  ego  is  but  the  bundle  of  sensations 
experienced  or  transformed  and  held  in  recollection. 
Yet  the  unity  of  the  ego  seems  to  argue  that  it  is  not 
composed  of  material  particles.  Condillac's  doctrine  is 
sensationalist,  but  not  materialistic.  Condillac's  disciple, 
the  physician  Cabanis  (1757-1808),  proceeded  to  investi- 
gate the  nature  of  sensibility  itself,  and  to  develop  the 
physiological  method  of  psychology.  The  unnecessary 
soul  which  Condillac  preserved  was  suppressed  by 
Destutt  de  Tracy  (1754-1836)  ;  his  ideology  was  no 
more  than  a  province  of  zoology. 

The  morals  of  the  sensationalist  school  were  expressed 
by  CLAUDE-ADRIEN  HELVETIUS  (1715-71),  a  worthy 
and  benevolent  farmer-general.  The  motive  of  all  our 
actions  is  self-love,  that  tendency  which  leads  us  to  seek 
for  pleasure  and  avoid  pain ;  but,  by  education  and 
legislation,  self-love  can  be  guided  and  trained  so  that 
it  shall  harmonise  with  the  public  good.  It  remained 
for  a  German  acclimatised  to  Paris  to  compile  the  full 


302  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

manifesto  of  atheistic  materialism.  At  Holbach's  hos- 
pitable table  the  philosophers  met,  and  the  air  was 
charged  with  ideas.  To  condense  these  into  a  system 
was  Holbach's  task.  Diderot,  Lagrange,  Naigeon  may 
have  lent  their  assistance,  but  PAUL-HEXRY  THIRY, 
BARON  D'HOLBACH  (1723-89)  must  be  regarded  as  sub- 
stantially the  author  of  the  Systeme  de  la  Nature  (1770), 
which  the  title-page  prudently  attributed  to  the  deceased 
Mirabaud.  What  do  we  desire  but  that  men  should  be 
happy,  just,  benevolent  ?  That  they  may  become  so,  it 
is  necessary  to  deliver  them  from  those  errors  on  which 
political  and  spiritual  despotism  is  founded,  from  the 
chains  of  tyrants  and  the  chimeras  of  priests,  and  to 
lead  them  back  from  illusions  to  nature,  of  which  man 
is  a  part.  We  find  everywhere  matter  and  motion,  a 
chain  of  material  causes  and  effects,  nor  can  we  find 
aught  beside  these.  An  ever  -  circulating  system  of 
motions  connects  inorganic  and  organic  nature,  fire 
and  air  and  plant  and  animal ;  free-will  is  as  much 
excluded  as  God  and  His  miraculous  providence.  The 
soul  is  nothing  but  the  brain  receiving  and  transmitting 
motions  j  morals  form  a  department  of  physiology. 
Religions  and  governments,  as  they  exist,  are  based  on 
error,  and  drive  men  into  crime.  But  though  Holbach 
"  accommodated  atheism,"  as  Grimm  puts  it,  "  to  cham- 
bermaids and  hairdressers,"  he  would  not  hurry  forward 
a  revolution.  All  will  come  in  good  time ;  in  some 
happier  day  Nature  and  her  daughters  Virtue,  Reason, 
and  Truth  will  alone  receive  the  adoration  of  mankind.1 
Among  the  friends  of  Holbach  and  Helvetius  was 

1  The  Swiss  naturalist  Charles  Bonnet  (i72O~93)  endeavoured  to  recon- 
cile his  sensationalism  with  a  religious  faith  and  a  private  interpretation  of 
Christianity. 


VOLNEY:    CONDORCET  303 

C.-F.  de  Chassebceuf,  Count  de  VOLNEY  (1757-1820), 
who  modified  and  developed  the  ethics  of  Helvetius. 
An  Orientalist  by  his  studies,  he  travelled  in  Egypt  and 
Syria,  desiring  to  investigate  the  origins  of  ancient  reli- 
gions, and  reported  what  he  had  seen  in  colourless  but 
exact  description.  In  Les  Ruines,  ou  Meditations  sur  les 
Revolutions  des  Empires,  he  recalls  the  past  like  "  an  Arab 
Ossian,"  monotonous  and  grandiose,  and  expounds  the 
history  of  humanity  with  cold  and  superficial  analysis 
clothed  in  a  pomp  of  words.  His  faith  in  human 
progress,  founded  on  nature,  reason,  and  justice,  sus- 
tained Volney  during  the  rise  and  fall  of  the  Girondin 
party. 

A  higher  and  nobler  spirit,  who  perished  in  the  Revolu- 
tion, but  ceased  not  till  his  last  moment  to  hope  and 
labour  for  the  good  of  men,  was  J.-A.-N.  de  Caritat, 
Marquis  de  CONDORCET  (^743-94).  Illustrious  in  mathe- 
matical science,  he  was  interested  by  Turgot  in  political 
economy,  and  took  a  part  in  the  polemics  of  theology. 
While  lying  concealed  from  the  emissaries  of  Robespierre 
he  wrote  his  Esquisse  d'un  Tableau  Historique  des  Progres 
de  F  Esprit.  Humain.  It  is  a  philosophy  of  the  past,  and 
almost  a  hymn  in  honour  of  human  perfectibility.  The 
man-statue  of  Condillac,  receiving,  retaining,  distinguish- 
ing, and  combining  sensations,  has  gradually  developed, 
through  nine  successive  epochs,  from  that  of  the  hunter 
and  fisher  to  the  citizen  of  1789,  who  comprehends  the 
physical  universe  with  Newton,  human  nature  with  Locke 
and  Condillac,  and  society  with  Turgot  and  Rousseau.  In 
the  vision  of  the  future,  with  its  progress  in  knowledge 
and  in  morals,  its  individual  and  social  improvement,  its 
lessening  inequalities  between  nations  and  classes,  the 
philosopher  finds  his  consolation  for  all  the  calamities  of 


304  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

the  present  age.  Condorcet  died  in  prison,  poisoned,  it 
is  believed,  by  his  own  hand. 

The  economists,  or,  as  Dupont  de  Nemours  named 
them,  the  physiocrats,  formed  a  not  unimportant  wing 
of  the  philosophic  phalanx,  now  in  harmony  with  the 
Encyclopaedic  party,  now  in  hostility.  The  sense  of  the 
misery  of  France  was  present  to  many  minds  in  the 
opening  of  the  century,  and  with  the  death  of  Louis 
XIV.  came  illusive  hopes  of  amelioration.  The  Abb6 
de  Saint- Pierre  (1658-1743),  filled  with  ardent  zeal  for 
human  happiness,  condemned  the  government  of  the 
departed  Grand  Monarch,  and  dreamed  of  a  perpetual 
peace ;  among  his  dreams  arose  projects  for  the  im- 
provement of  society  which  were  justified  by  time.  Bois- 
guillebert,  and  Vauban,  marshal  of  France  and  military 
engineer,  were  no  visionary  spirits  ;  they  pleaded  for  a 
serious  consideration  of  the  general  welfare,  and  espe- 
cially the  welfare  of  the  agricultural  class,  the  wealth- 
producers  of  the  community.  To  violate  economic  laws, 
Boisguillebert  declared,  is  to  violate  nature  ;  let  govern- 
ments restrain  their  meddling,  and  permit  natural  forces 
to  operate  with  freedom. 

Such  was  the  doctrine  of  the  physiocratic  school,  of 
which  FRANCOIS  QUESNAY  (1694-1774)  was  the  chief. 
Let  human  institutions  conform  to  nature  ;  enlarge  the 
bounds  of  freedom  ;  give  play  to  the  spirit  of  individual- 
ism ;  diminish  the  interference  of  government — "  laissez 
faire,  laissez  passer."  l  Agriculture  is  productive,  let  its 
burdens  be  alleviated ;  manufactures  are  useful  but 
"  sterile  "  :  honour,  therefore,  above  all,  to  the  tiller  of  the 

1  This  phrase  had  been  used  by  Boisguillebert  and  by  the  Marquis  d'Ar- 
genson  before  Gournay  made  it  a  power.  On  D'Argenson  (1694-1757),  whose 
Considerations  surlt  Gouvernement  de  la  France  were  not  published  until  1764, 
see  the  study  by  Mr.  Arthur  Ogle  (1893). 


THE  PHYSIOCRATS  305 

fields,  who  hugs  nature  close,  and  who  enriches  human- 
kind !  The  elder  Mirabeau  —  "ami  des  hommes" — 
who  had  anticipated  Quesnay  in  some  of  his  views,  and 
himself  had  learnt  from  Cantillon,  met  Quesnay  in  1757, 
and  thenceforth  subordinated  his  own  fiery  spirit,  as  far 
as  that  was  possible,  to  the  spirit  of  the  master.  From  the 
physiocrats — Gournay  and  Quesnay — the  noble-minded 
and  illustrious  TURGOT  (1727-81)  derived  many  of  those 
ideas  of  reform  which  he  endeavoured  to  put  into 
action  when  intendant  of  Limoges,  and  later,  when 
Minister  of  Finance.  By  his  Reflexions  sur  la  Formation 
et  la  Distribution  des  Richesses,  Turgot  prepared  the  way 
for  Adam  Smith. 

In  1770  the  Abbe  Galiani,  as  alert  of  brain  as  he  was 
diminutive  of  stature,  attacked  the  physiocratic  doctrines 
in  \ws>*Dialogues  sur  le  Commerce  des  Ble's,  which  Plato  and 
Moliere — so  Voltaire  pronounced — had  combined  to 
write.  The  refutation  of  the  Dialogues  by  Morellet  was 
the  result  of  no  such  brilliant  collaboration,  and  Galiani, 
proposed  that  his  own  unstatuesque  person  should  be 
honoured  by  a  statue  above  an  inscription,  declaring 
that  he  had  wiped  out  the  economists,  who  were  sending 
the  nation  to  sleep.  The  fame  of  his  Dialogues  was 
perhaps  in  large  measure  due  to  the  party-spirit  of  the 
Encyclopaedists,  animated  by  a  vivacious  attack  upon 
the  physiocrats.  The  book  was  applauded,  but  reached 
no  second  edition. 

An  important  body  of  articles  on  literature  was 
contributed  to  the  Encyclope'die  by  JEAN  -  FRANCOIS 
MARMOXTEL.  As  early  as  1719  a  remarkable  study 
in  aesthetics  had  appeared — the  Reflexions  Critiques  sur 
la  Poesie  et  la  Peinture,  by  the  Abbe  Dubos.  Art  is 
conceived  as  a  satisfaction  of  the  craving  for  vivid 


306  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

sensations  and  emotions  apart  from  the  painful  con- 
sequences which  commonly  attend  these  in  actual 
life.  That  portion  of  Dubos'  work  which  treats  of 
"physical  causes  in  the  progress  of  art  and  literature," 
anticipates  the  views  of  Montesquieu  on  the  influence  of 
climate,  and  studies  the  action  of  environment  on  the 
products  of  the  imagination.  In  1746  Charles  Batteux, 
in  his  treatise  Les  Beaux-Arts  re"duits  a  un  meme  Principe, 
defined  the  end  of  art  as  the  imitation  of  nature — not 
indeed  of  reality,  but  of  nature  in  its  actual  or  possible 
beauty  ;  of  nature  not  as  it  is,  but  as  it  may  be.  The 
articles  of  Marmontel,  revised  and  collected  in  the  six 
volumes  of  his  Elements  de  Literature  (1787),  were  full 
of  instruction  for  his  own  time,  delicate  and  just  in 
observation,  as  they  often  were,  if  not  penetrating  or 
profound.  In  his  earlier  Pottique  Fran^aise — "a  petard," 
said  Mairan,  "  laid  at  the  doors  of  the  Academy  to  blow 
them  up  if  they  should  not  open  " — he  had  shown  him- 
self strangely  disrespectful  towards  the  fame  of  Racine, 
Boileau,  and  the  poet  Rousseau. 

The  friend  of  Marmontel,  Antoine-Leonard  Thomas 
(1732-85),  honourably  distinguished  by  the  dignity  of 
his  character  and  conduct,  a  composer  of  Eloges  on 
great  men,  somewhat  marred  by  strain  and  oratorical 
emphasis,  put  his  best  work  into  an  Essai  sur  les 
Eloges.  At  a  time  when  Bossuet  was  esteemed  below 
his  great  deserts,  Thomas — almost  alone — recognised  his 
supremacy  in  eloquence.  As  the  century  advanced,  and 
philosophy  developed  its  attack  on  religion  and  govern- 
ments, the  classical  tradition  in  literature  not  only 
remained  unshaken,  but  seemed  to  gain  in  authority. 
The  first  lieutenant  of  Voltaire,  his  literary  "son," 
LAHARPE  (1739-1803)  represents  the  critical  temper  of 


LAHARPE:    GRIMM  307 

the  time.  In  1786  he  began  his  courses  of  lectures  at 
the  Lycee,  before  a  brilliant  audience  composed  of 
both  sexes.  For  the  first  time  in  France,  instruction 
in  literature,  not  trivial  and  not  erudite,  but  suited  to 
persons  of  general  culture,  was  made  an  intellectual 
pleasure.  For  the  first  time  the  history  of  'literature 
was  treated,  in  its  sequence  from  Homer  to  modern 
times,  as  a  totality.  Laharpe's  judgments  of  his  con- 
temporaries were  often  misled  by  his  bitterness  of 
spirit ;  his  mind  was  not  capacious,  his  sympathies  were 
not  liberal ;  his  knowledge,  especially  of  Greek  letters, 
was  defective.  But  he  knew  the  great  age  of  Louis  XIV., 
and  he  felt  the  beauty  of  its  art.  No  one  has  written 
with  finer  intelligence  of  Racine  than  he  in  his  Lycc'e,  ou 
Cours  de  Litter ature.  As  the  Revolution  approached  he 
sympathised  with  its  hopes  and  fears ;  the  professor 
donned  the  bonnet  rouge.  The  storm  which  burst 
silenced  his  voice  for  a  time  ;  in  1793  he  suffered  im- 
prisonment ;  and  when  he  occupied  his  chair  again, 
it  was  a  converted  Laharpe  who  declaimed  against 
philosophers,  republicans,  and  atheists,  the  tyrants  of 
reason,  morals,  art  and  letters. 

The  finest  and  surest  judgment  in  contemporary  litera- 
ture was  that  of  a  gallicised  German — MELCHIOR  GRIMM 
(1723-1807).  As  Laharpe  was  bound  in  filial  loyalty-to 
Voltaire,  so  Grimm  was  in  fraternal  attachment  to  the 
least  French  of  eighteenth-century  French  authors — 
Diderot.  From  a  basis  of  character  in  which  there  was 
a  measure  of  Teutonic  enthusiasm  and  romance,  his 
intellect  rose  clear,  light,  and  sure,  with  no  mists  of  sen- 
timent about  it,  and  no  clouds  of  fancy.  During  thirty- 
seven  years,  as  a  kind  of  private  journalist,  he  furnished 
princely  and  royal  persons  of  Germany,  Russia,  Sweden, 


308  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

Poland,  with  "  Correspondence/'  which  reflected  as  from 
a  mirror  all  the  lights  of  Paris  to  the  remote  North  and 
East.  His  own  philosophy,  his  political  views,  were 
cheerless  and  arid;  but  he  could  judge  the  work  of 
others  generously  as  well  as  severely.  No  one  of  his 
generation  so  intelligently  appreciated  Shakespeare  ;  no 
one  more  happily  interpreted  Montaigne.  By  swift 
aperqu,  by  criticism,  by  anecdote,  by  caustic  raillery,  or 
serious  record,  he  makes  the  intellectual  world  of  his 
day  pass  before  us  and  expound  its  meanings.  The 
Revolution,  the  dangers  of  which  he  divined  early, 
drove  him  from  Paris.  In  bidding  it  farewell  he  wished 
that  he  were  in  his  grave. 


Ill 

Buffon,  whose  power  ©f  wing  was  great,  and  who  did 
not  love  the  heat  and  dust  of  combat,  soared  smoothly 
above  the  philosophic  strife.  Born  in  1707,  at  Mont- 
bard,  in  Burgundy,  GEORGE  -  Louis  LECLERC,  created 
Comte  de  BUFFON  by  Louis  XV.,  fortunate  in  the 
possession  of  riches,  health,  and  serenity  of  heart  and 
brain,  lived  in  his  domestic  circle,  apart  from  the  coteries 
of  Paris,  pursuing  with  dignity  and  infinite  patience  his 
proper  ends.  The  legend  describes  him  as  a  pompous 
Olympian  even  in  his  home ;  in  truth,  if  he  was 
majestic — like  a  marshal  of  France,  as  Hume  describes 
him — he  was  also  natural,  genial,  and  at  times  gay.  His 
appointment,  in  1739,  as  intendant  of  the  Royal  Garden, 
now  the  Jardin  des  Plantes,  turned  his  studies  from 
mathematical  science  to  natural  history. 

The  first  volumes  of  his  vast   Histoire  Naturelle  ap- 


BUFFON  309 

peared  in  1749 ;  aided  by  Daubenton  and  others,  he 
was  occupied  with  the  succeeding  volumes  during  forty 
years,  until  death  terminated  his  labours  in  1788.  The 
defects  of  his  work  are  obvious  —  its  want  of  method, 
its  disdain  of  classification,  its  abuse  of  hypotheses,  its 
humanising  of  the  animal  world,  its  pomp  of  style.  But 
the  progress  of  science,  which  lowered  the  reputation 
of  Buffon,  has  again  re-established  his  fame.  Not  a  few 
of  his  disdained  hypotheses  are  seen  to  have  been  the 
divinations  of  genius ;  and  if  he  wrote  often  in  the 
ornate,  classical  manner,  he  could  also  write  with  a 
grave  simplicity. 

In  his  Discours  de  Reception,  pronounced  before  the 
French  Academy  in  1753,  he  formulated  his  doctrine  of 
literary  style,  insisting  that  it  is,  before  all  else,  the  mani- 
festation of  order  in  the  evolution  of  ideas ;  ideas  alone 
form  the  basis  and  inward  substance  of  style.  Rejecting 
merely  abstract  conceptions  as  an  explanation  of  natural 
phenomena,  viewing  classifications  as  no  more  than  a 
convenience  of  the  human  intellect,  refusing  to  regard 
final  causes  as  a  subject  of  science,  he  envisaged  nature 
with  a  tranquil  and  comprehensive  gaze,  and  with  some- 
thing of  a  poet's  imagination.  He  perceived  that  the 
globe,  in  its  actual  condition,  is  the  result  of  a  long 
series  of  changes,  and  thereby  he  gave  an  impulse  to 
sound  geological  study ;  he  expounded  the  geography 
of  species,  and  almost  divined  the  theory  of  their  trans- 
formation or  variability  ;  he  recognised  in  some  degree 
the  struggle  for  existence  and  the  survival  of  the  fittest; 
he  regarded  man  as  a  part  of  nature,  but  as  its  noblest 
part,  capable  of  an  intellectual  and  moral  progress  which 
is  not  the  mere  result  of  physical  laws. 

Whatever  may  have  been  Buffon's  errors  as .  a  thinker, 


3io  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

he  enlarged  the  bounds  of  literature  by  annexing  the 
province  of  natural  history  as  Montesquieu  had  annexed 
that  of  political  science.  His  vision  of  the  universe  was 
unclouded  by  passion,  and  part  of  its  grandeur  is  derived 
from  this  serenity.  He  studied  and  speculated  with 
absolute  freedom,  prepared  to  advance  from  his  own 
ideas  to  others  more  in  accordance  with  observed  pheno- 
mena. "  He  desired  to  be,"  writes  a  critic,  "  and  almost 
became,  a  pure  intelligence  in  presence  of  eternal  things." 
How  could  he  concern  himself  with  the  strifes  and  passions 
of  a  day  to  whom  the  centuries  were  moments  in  the 
vast  process  of  evolving  change  ?  In  Andr6  Chenier  he 
found  a  disciple  who  would  fain  have  been  the  Lucretius 
of  the  new  system  of  nature. 


CHAPTER   IV 

ROUSSEAU— BE AUMARCHAIS— BE RNARDIN  DE 
SAINT-PIERRE—ANDRE  CHENIER 

I 

JEAN-JACQUES  ROUSSEAU  the  man  is  inseparable  from 
Rousseau  the  writer  ;  his  works  proceed  directly  from 
his  character  and  his  life.  Born  at  Geneva  in  1712,  he 
died  at  Ermenonville  in  1778.  His  childhood  was  fol- 
lowed by  years  of  vagabondage.  From  1732,  the  date  of 
his  third  residence  with  Madame  de  Warens,  until  1741, 
though  his  vagabondage  did  not  wholly  cease,  he  was 
collecting  his  powers  and  educating  his  mind  with  studies 
ardently  pursued.  During  nine  subsequent  years  in 
Paris,  in  Venice,  and  elsewhere,  he  was  working  his  way 
towards  the  light ;  it  was  the  period  of  his  gayer  writings, 
ballet,  opera,  comedy,  and  of  the  articles  on  music  con- 
tributed to  the  Encyclopedic :  he  had  not  yet  begun  to 
preach  and  prophesy  to  his  age.  The  great  fourth  period 
of  his  life,  from  1749  to  1762,  includes  all  his  master- 
pieces except  the  Confessions.  From  1762  until  his  death, 
while  his  temper  grew  darker  and  his  reason  was  dis- 
turbed, Rousseau  was  occupied  with  apologetic  and 
autobiographic  writings. 

His  mother  died  in  giving  birth  to  Jean-Jacques.     His 
father,  a  watchmaker,  filled  the  child's  head  with  the 

21  3" 


312  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

follies  of  romances,  which  they  read  together,  and  gave 
him  through  Plutarch's  Lives  a  sense  of  the  exaltations 
of  virtue.  The  boy's  feeling  for  nature  was  quickened 
and  fostered  in  the  garden  of  the  pastor  of  Bossey.  From 
a  notary's  office,  where  he  seemed  an  incapable  fool,  he 
passed  under  the  harsh  rule  of  an  engraver  of  watches, 
learning  the  vices  that  grow  from  fear.  At  sixteen  he 
fled,  and  found  protection  at  Annecy,  under  Madame  de 
Warens,  a  young  and  comely  lady,  recently  converted 
to  the  Roman  communion,  frank,  kind,  gay,  and  as 
devoid  of  moral  principles  as  any  creature  in  the  Natural 
History.  Sent  to  Turin  for  instruction,  Rousseau  re- 
nounced his  Protestant  faith,  and  soon  after  found  in 
the  good  Abbe  Gaime  the  model  in  part  of  his  Savoyard 
vicar.  Some  experience  of  domestic  service  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  year  at  Annecy,  during  which  Rousseau's 
talent  as  a  musician  was  developed.  From  eighteen  to 
twenty  he  led  a  wandering  life — "starved,  feasted,  de- 
spaired, was  happy."  Rejoining  Madame  de  Warens 
at  Chambery  in  1732,  he  interested  himself  in  music, 
physics,  botany,  and  was  more  and  more  drawn  to- 
wards the  study  of  letters.  He  methodised  his  reading 
(1738-41),  and  passionately  pursued  a  liberal  system  of 
self-education,  literary,  scientific,  and  philosophical. 

Rousseau's  relations  with  his  bonne  maman,  Madame  de 
Warens,  had  been  troubled  by  the  latest  of  her  other  loves. 
In  1741  he  set  off  for  Paris,  bearing  with  him  the  manu- 
script of  a  new  system  of  musical  notation,  which  was 
offered  to  the  Academic  des  Sciences,  and  was  declared 
neither  new  nor  useful  for  instrumentalists.  An  experi- 
ment in  life  as  secretary  to  the  French  Ambassador  at 
Venice  closed,  after  fourteen  months,  with  his  abrupt  dis- 
missal. Again  in  Paris,  Rousseau  obtained  celebrity  by 


ROUSSEAU'S  EARLY  WRITINGS  313 

his  operas  and  comedies,  was  received  in  the  salons,  and 
associated  joyously  with  Diderot,  Marmontel,  and  Grimm. 
He  arranged  his  domestic  life  by  taking  an  illiterate  and 
vulgar  drudge,  Therese  Le  Vasseur,  for  his  companion  ; 
their  children  were  abandoned  to  the  care  of  the  Found- 
ling Hospital. 

In  1749  Diderot  was  a  prisoner  at  Vincennes.  Rous- 
seau, on  the  road  to  visit  his  friend,  read  in  the  Mercure 
de  France  that  the  Academy  of  Dijon  had  proposed  as 
the  subject  for  a  prize  to  be  awarded  next  year  the  ques- 
tion, "  Has  the  progress  of  arts  and  sciences  contributed 
to  purify  morals  ?  "  Suddenly  a  tumult  of  ideas  arose  in 
his  brain  and  overwhelmed  him  ;  it  was  an  ecstasy  of  the 
intellect  and  the  passions.  With  Diderot's  encourage- 
ment he  undertook  his  indictment  of  civilisation;  in  1750 
the  Discours  sur  les  Sciences  et  les  Arts  was  crowned.  In 
accordance  with  his  theory  he  proceeded  to  simplify  his 
own  life,  intensifying  his  self-consciousness  by  singu- 
larities of  assumed  austerity,  and  playing  the  part  (not 
wholly  a  fictitious  one)  of  a  moral  reformer.  Famous 
as  author  of  the  Discours  and  the  opera  Le  Devin  de 
Village,  presented  before  the  King,  he  returned  to  his 
native  Switzerland,  and  there  re-entered  the  Protestant 
communion.  In  1754  he  again  competed  for  a  prize 
at  Dijon,  on  the  question,  "What  is  the  origin  of  in- 
equality among  men,  and  is  it  authorised  by  the  law  of 
nature  ? "  Rousseau  failed  to  obtain  the  prize,  but  the 
Discours  sur  I Inegalite  was  published  (1755)  with  a 
dedication  to  the  Republic  of  Geneva.  He  had  dis- 
covered in  private  property  the  source  of  all  the  evils 
of  society. 

In  Switzerland  Rousseau  prepared  a  first  redaction  of 
his  political  treatise,  the  Contrat  Social,  and  filled  his 


314  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

heart  with  the  beauty  of  those  prospects  which  form  an 
environment  for  the  lovers  in  his  Helo'ise.  In  1756  he  was 
established,  through  the  kindness  of  Madame  d'Epinay, 
in  the  Hermitage,  near  the  borders  of  the  forest  of  Mont- 
morency.  His  delight  in  the  woods  and  fields  was  great; 
his  delight  in  Madame  d'Houdetot,  kinswoman  of  his 
hostess,  was  a  more  troubled  passion.  Quarrels  with 
Madame  d'Epinay,  quarrels  with  Grimm  and  Diderot, 
estrangement  from  Madame  d'Houdetot,  closed  the  scene 
at  the  Hermitage. 

Authorship,  however,  had  its  joys  and  consolations. 
The  Lettre  a  D'Alembert,  a  censure  of  the  theatre  (1758), 
was  succeeded  by  La  Nouvelle  Helo'ise  (1761),  by  the 
Contrat  Social  (1762),  and  £mile  (1762).  The  days  at 
Montmorency  which  followed  his  departure  from  the 
Hermitage  passed  in  calm.  With  the  publication  of 
Jennie  the  storms  began  again.  The  book,  condemned 
by  the  Sorbonne,  was  ordered  by  the  Parliament  to  be 
burnt  by  the  common  executioner.  Rousseau  escaped 
imprisonment  by  flight.  In  Switzerland  he  could  not 
settle  near  Voltaire.  A  champion  for  the  doctrine  of  a 
providential  order  of  the  world,  an  enemy  of  the  stage — 
especially  in  republican  Geneva — Rousseau  had  flung 
indignant  words  against  Voltaire,  and  Voltaire  had  tossed 
back  wrords  of  bitter  scorn.  Geneva  had  followed  Paris 
in  its  hostility  towards  Rousseau's  recent  publications ; 
whose  doing  could  it  be  except  Voltaire's  ?  He  fled  from 
his  persecutors  to  Metiers,  where  the  King  of  Prussia's 
governor  afforded  him  protection.  Renewed  quarrels 
with  his  countrymen,  clerical  intolerance,  mob  violence, 
an  envenomed  pamphlet  from  Voltaire,  once  more  drove 
him  forth.  He  took  refuge  on  an  island  in  the  lake  of 
Bienne,  only  to  be  expelled  by  the  authorities  of  Berne. 


ROUSSEAU'S    CHARACTER 


315 


Encouraged  by  Hume — "le  bon  David" — he  arrived  in 
January  1766  in  London. 

At  Wootton,  in  the  Peak  of  Derbyshire,  Rousseau  pre- 
pared the  first  five  books  of  his  Confessions.  Within  a  little 
time  he  had  assured  himself  that  Hume  was  joined  with 
D  Alembert  and  Voltaire  in  a  triumvirate  of  persecutors 
to  defame  his  character  and  render  him  an  outcast ;  the 
whole  human  race  had  conspired  to  destroy  him.  Again 
Rousseau  fled,  sojourned  a  year  at  Trye-Chateau  under 
an  assumed  name,  and  after  wanderings  hither  and 
thither,  took  refuge  in  Paris,  where,  living  meanly,  he 
completed  his  Confessions,  wrote  other  eloquent  pieces 
of  self-vindication,  and  relieved  his  morbid  cerebral 
excitement  by  music  and  botanising  rambles.  The  hos- 
pitality of  M.  de  Girardin  at  Ermenonville  was  gladly 
accepted  in  May  1778  ;  and  there,  on  July  2,  he  suddenly 
died  ;  suicide  was  surmised  ;  the  seizure  was  probably 
apoplectic. 

Rousseau  was  essentially  an  idealist,  but  an  idealist 
whose  dreams  and  visions  were  inspired  by  the  play 
of  his  sensibility  upon  his  intellect  and  imagination, 
and  therefore  he  was  the  least  impersonal  of  thinkers. 
Generous  of  heart,  he  was  filled  with  bitter  suspicions; 
inordinately  proud,  he  nursed  his  pride  amid  sordid 
realities;  cherishing  ideals  of  purity  and  innocence,  he 
sank  deep  in  the  mire  of  imaginative  sensuality;  effemi- 
nate, he  was  also  indomitable;  an  uncompromising  opti- 
mist, he  saw  the  whole  world  lying  in  wickedness ;  a 
passionate  lover  of  freedom,  he  aimed  at  establishing 
the  most  unqualified  of  tyrannies ;  among  the  devout 
he  was  a  free-thinker,  among  the  philosophers  he  was  the 
sentimentalist  of  theopathy.  He  stands  apart  from  his 
contemporaries  :  they  did  homage  to  the  understand- 


316  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

ing ;  he  was  the  devotee  of  the  heart :  they  belonged 
to  a  brilliant  society;  he  was  elated,  suffered,  brooded, 
dreamed  in  solitude  :  they  were  aristocratic,  at  least 
by  virtue  of  the  intellectual  culture  which  they  repre- 
sented ;  he  was  plebeian  in  his  origin,  and  popular  in 
his  sympathies. 

He  became  a  great  writer  comparatively  late  in  life, 
under  the  compulsion  of  a  ruling  idea  which  lies  at  the 
centre  of  all  his  more  important  works,  excepting  such 
as  are  apologetic  and  autobiographical :  Nature  has 
made  man  good  and  happy  ;  society  has  made  him  evil 
and  miserable.  Are  we,  then,  to  return  to  a  state  of 
primitive  savagery  ?  No  :  society  cannot  retrograde. 
But  in  many  ways  we  can  ameliorate  human  life  by 
approximating  to  a  natural  condition. 

In  the  Discours  sur  les  Sciences  et  les  Arts,  the  Discours 
sur  I'  Inegalite,  and  the  Lettre  a  D' Alernbert  sur  les  Spec- 
tacles, Rousseau  pleads  against  the  vices,  the  artificiality, 
the  insincerities,  the  luxuries,  the  false  refinements,  the 
factitious  passions,  the  dishonest  pleasures  of  modern 
society.  "  You  make  one  wish,"  wrote  Voltaire,  "  to 
walk  on  all  fours."  By  nature  all  men  are  born  free 
and  equal ;  society  has  rendered  them  slaves,  and  im- 
pounded them  in  classes  of  rich  and  poor,  powerful  and 
weak,  master  and  servant,  peasant  and  peer.  Rousseau's 
conception  of  the  primitive  state  of  nature,  and  the  origin 
of  society  by  a  contract,  may  not  be  historically  exact — 
this  he  admits  ;  nevertheless,  it  serves  well,  he  urges,  as 
a  working  hypothesis  to  explain  the  present  state  of 
things,  and  to  point  the  way  to  a  happier  state.  It 
exhibits  property  as  the  confiscation  of  natural  rights ; 
it  justifies  the  sacred  cause  of  insurrection  ;  it  teaches 
us  to  honour  man  as  man,  and  the  simple  citizen  more 


THE  CONTRAT  SOCIAL  317 

than  the  noble,  the  scientific  student,  or  the  artist.  Plain 
morals  are  the  only  safe  morals.  We  are  told  that  the 
theatre  is  a  school  of  manners,  purifying  the  passions; 
on  the  contrary,  it  irritates  and  perverts  them  ;  or  it 
offers  to  ridicule  the  man  of  straightforward  virtue,  as 
Moliere  was  not  ashamed  to  do  in  his  Misanthrope. 

Having  developed  his  destructive  criticism  against 
society  as  it  is,  Rousseau  would  build  up.  In  the  Contrat 
Social  he  would  show  how  freedom  and  government  may 
be  conciliated  ;  how,  through  the  arrangements  of  society, 
man  may  in  a  certain  sense  return  to  the  law  of  nature. 
"  Man  is  born  free,  and  everywhere  he  is  in  chains  ; "  yet 
social  order,  Rousseau  declares,  is  sacred.  Having  re- 
signed his  individual  liberty  by  the  social  pact,  how  may 
man  recover  that  liberty  ?  By  yielding  his  individual 
rights  absolutely  to  a  self-governing  community  of  which 
he  forms  a  part.  The  volonte  generate,  expressing  itself 
by  a  plurality*  of  votes,  resumes  the  free-will  of  every 
individual.  If  any  person  should  resist  the  general  will, 
he  thereby  sacrifices  his  true  freedom,  and  he  must  be 
"  forced  to  be  free."  Thus  the  dogma  of  the  sovereignty 
of  the  people  is  formulated  by  Rousseau.  Government 
is  merely  a  delegation  of  power  made  by  the  people  as 
sovereign  for  the  uses  of  the  people  as  subjects.  In 
Rousseau's  system,  if  the  tyranny  of  the  majority 
be  established  without  check  or  qualification,  at  least 
equality  is  secured,  for,  in  the  presence  of  the  sove- 
reign people  and  its  manifested  will,  each  individual  is 
reduced  to  the  level  of  all  his  fellows. 

La  Nouvelle  Helotse,  in  the  form  of  a  romance,  con- 
siders the  purification  of  domestic  manners.  Richard- 
son's novels  are  followed  in  the  epistolary  style  of 
narration,  which  lends  itself  to  the  exposition  of  senti- 


318  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

ment.  The  story  is  simple  in  its  incidents.  Saint- 
Preux's  crime  of  passion  against  his  pupil  Julie 
resembles  that  of  Abelard  against  Eloisa.  Julie,  like 
Eloisa,  has  been  a  consenting  party.  Obedient  to  her 
father's  will,  'Julie  marries  Wolmar.  In  despair  Saint- 
Preux  wanders  abroad.  Wolmar  offers  him  his  friend- 
ship and  a  home.  The  lovers  meet,  are  tried,  and  do 
not  yield  to  the  temptation.  Julie  dies  a  victim  to  her 
maternal  devotion,  and  not  too  soon — "Another  day, 
perhaps,  and  I  were  guilty  ! " 

In  1757  Rousseau  conceived  the  design  of  his  romance. 
It  might  have  been  coldly  edifying  had  not  the  writer's 
consuming  passion  for  Madame  d'Houdetot,  awakening 
all  that  he  had  felt  as  the  lover  of  Madame  de  Warens, 
filled  it  with  intensity  of  ardour.  In  the  first  part  of  the 
romance,  passion  asserts  the  primitive  rights  of  nature; 
in  the  second  part,  those  rights  are  shown  to  be  no  longer 
rights  in  an  organised  society.  But  the  idfeal  of  domestic 
life  exhibited  is  one  far  removed  from  the  artificialities 
of  the  world  of  fashion  :  it  is  a  life  of  plain  duties,  patri- 
archal manners,  and  gracious  beneficence.  Rousseau 
the  moralist  is  present  to  rebuke  Rousseau  the  senti- 
mentalist ;  yet  the  sentimentalist  has  his  own  persuasive 
power.  The  emotion  of  the  lovers  is  reinforced  by  the 
penetrating  influences  of  the  beauty  of  external  nature ; 
and  both  are  interpreted  with  incomparable  harmonies 
of  style  and  poignant  lyrical  cries,  in  which  the  violin 
note  outsoars  the  orchestra. 

A  reform  of  domestic  life  must  result  in  a  reform  of 
education.  Rousseau's  ideal  of  education,  capable  of 
adaptations  and  modifications  according  to  circumstances, 
is  presented  in  his  £mile.  How  shall  a  child  be  formed 
in  accordance,  not  with  the  vicious  code  of  an  artificial 


ROUSSEAU  ON  EDUCATION  319 

society,  but  in  harmony  with  nature  ?  Rousseau  traces 
the  course  of  Smile's  development  from  birth  to  adult 
years.  Unconstrained  by  swaddling-bands,  suckled  by 
his  mother,  the  child  enjoys  the  freedom  of  nature,  and 
at  five  years  old  passes  into  the  care  of  his  father  or 
his  tutor.  During  the  earlier  years  his  education  is  to 
be  negative:  let  him  be  preserved  from  all  that  is  false 
or  artificial,  and  enter  upon  the  heritage  of  childhood, 
the  gladness  of  animal  life,  vigorous  delights  in  sun- 
shine and  open  air ;  at  twelve  he  will  hardly  have 
opened  a  book,  but  he  will  have  been  in  vital  relation 
with  real  things,  he  will  unconsciously  have  laid  the 
foundations  of  wisdom.  When  the  time  for  study 
comes,  that  study  should  be  simple  and  sound — no 
Babel  of  words,  but  a  wholesome  knowledge  of  things ; 
he  may  have  learnt  little,  but  he  will  know  that  little 
aright ;  a  sunrise  will  be  his  first  lesson  in  cosmography  ; 
he  may  watch  the  workman  in  his  workshop ;  he  may 
practise  the  carpenter's  trade  ;  he  may  read  Robin- 
son Crusoe,  and  learn  the  lesson  of  self-help.  Let  him 
ask  at  every  moment,  "  What  is  the  good  of  this  ? " 
Unpuzzled  by  questions  of  morals,  metaphysics,  history, 
he  will  have  grown  up  laborious,  temperate,  patient, 
firm,  courageous. 

At  fifteen  the  passions  are  awake  ;  let  them  be  gently 
and  wisely  guided.  Let  pity,  gratitude,  benevolence  be 
formed  within  the  boy's  heart,  so  that  the  self-regarding 
passions  may  fall  into  a  subordinate  place.  To  read 
Plutarch  is  to  commune  with  noble  spirits ;  to  read 
Thucydides  is  almost  to  come  into  immediate  contact 
with  facts.  The  fables  of  La  Fontaine  will  serve  as  a 
criticism  of  the  errors  of  the  passions. 

And  now  Emile,  at  eighteen,  may  learn  the  sublime 


320 


FRENCH  LITERATURE 


mysteries  of  that  faith  which  is  professed  by  Rousseau's 
Savoyard  vicar.  A  Will  moves  the  universe  and  animates 
nature  ;  that  Will,  acting  through  general  laws,  is  guided 
by  supreme  intelligence  ;  if  the  order  of  Providence  be 
disturbed,  it  is  only  through  the  abuse  of  man's  free- 
will ;  the  soul  is  immaterial  and  survives  the  body ;  con- 
science is  the  voice  of  God  within  the  soul ;  "  dare  to 
confess  God  before  the  philosophers,  dare  to  preach 
humanity  before  the  intolerant ;  "  God  demands  no  other 
worship  than  that  of  the  heart.  With  such  a  preparation 
as  this.  Emile  may  at  length  proceed  to  aesthetic  culture, 
and  find  his  chief  delight  in  those  writers  whose  genius 
has  the  closest  kinship  to  nature.  Finally,  in  Sophie, 
formed  to  be  the  amiable  companion  and  helpmate  of 
man,  Emile  should  find  a  resting-place  for  his  heart. 
Alas,  if  she  should  ever  betray  his  confidence  ! 

The  Confessions,  \vith  its  sequels  in  the  Dialogues,  ou 
Rousseau  juge  de  Jean-Jacques,  and  the  Reveries  du  Pro- 
meneur  Solitaire,  constitute  an  autobiographical  romance. 
The  sombre  colours  of  the  last  six  Books  throw  out  the 
livelier  lights  and  shades  of  the  preceding  Books.  While 
often  falsifying  facts  and  dates,  Rousseau  writes  with  all 
the  sincerity  of  one  who  was  capable  of  boundless  self- 
deception.  He  will  reserve  no  record  of  shame  and  vice 
and  humiliation,  confident  that  in  the  end  he  must  appear 
the  most  virtuous  of  men.  As  the  utterance  of  a  soul 
touched  and  thrilled  by  all  the  influences  of  nature  and 
of  human  life,  the  Confessions  affects  the  reader  like  a 
musical  symphony  in  which  various  movements  are  in- 
terpreted by  stringed  and  breathing  instruments.  If 
Rousseau  here  is  less  of  the  prophet  than  in  his  other 
writings,  he  is  more  of  the  great  enchanter.  Should  a 
moral  be  drawn  from  the  book,  the  author  would  have 


INFLUENCE  OF  ROUSSEAU  321 

us  learn  that  nature  has  made  man  good,  that  society 
has  the  skill  to  corrupt  him,  and  finally  that  it  is  in  his 
power  to  refashion  himself  to  such  virtue  as  the  world 
most  needs  and  most  impatiently  rejects. 

The  influence  of  Rousseau  cannot  easily  be  over-esti- 
mated. He  restored  the  sentiment  of  religion  in  an  age 
of  abstract  deism  or  turbid  materialism.  He  inaugurated 
a  moral  reform.  He  tyrannised  over  France  in  the 
person  of  his  disciple  Robespierre.  He  emancipated  the 
passions  from  the  domination  of  the  understanding.  He 
liberated  the  imagination.  He  caught  the  harmonies  of 
external  nature,  and  gave  them  a  new  interpretation.1 
He  restored  to  French  prose,  colour,  warmth,  and  the 
large  utterance  which  it  had  lost.  He  created  a  literature 
in  which  all  that  is  intimate,  personal,  lyrical  asserted 
its  rights,  and  urged  extravagant  claims.  He  overthrew 
the  classical  ideal  of  art,  and  enthroned  the  ego  in  its 
room. 


II 

The  fermentation  of  ideas  was  now  quickened  by  the 
new  life  of  passion — passion  social  and  democratic  as  the 
days  of  Revolution  approached  ;  passion  also  personal 
and  private,  which,  welcomed  as  a  sacred  fire,  too  often 
made  the  inmost  being  of  the  individual  a  scene  of 
agitating  and  desolating  conflict. 

The  Abbe  Raynal  (1713-96)  made  his  Histoire  des  Deux 
Indes  a  receptacle  not  only  for  just  views  and  useful 

1  Among  writers  who  fostered  the  new  feeling  for  external  nature,  Ramond 
(1755-1827),  who  derived  his  inspiration,  partly  scientific,  partly  imaginative, 
from  the  Swiss  Alps  and  the  Pyrenees,  deserves  special  mention. 


322  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

information,  but  for  every  extravagance  of  thought  and 
sentiment.  "  Insert  into  my  book,"  he  said  to  his  brother 
philosophers,  "  everything  that  you  choose  against  God, 
against  religion,  and  against  government."  In  the  third 
edition  appears  a  portrait  of  the  author,  posing  theatri- 
cally, with  the  inscription,  "To  the  defender  of  humanity, 
of  truth,  of  liberty  ! "  The  salons  caught  the  temper  of 
the  time.  Voltairean  as  they  were,  disposed  to  set  down 
Rousseau  as  an  enthusiast  or  a  charlatan,  they  could 
not  resist  the  invasion  of  passion  or  of  sensibility.  It 
mingled  with  a  swarm  of  incoherent  ideas  and  gave 
them  a  new  intensity  of  life.  The  incessant  play  of 
intellect  flashed  and  glittered  for  many  spirits  over  a 
moral  void ;  the  bitter,  almost  misanthropic  temper 
of  Chamfort's  maxims  and  pensees  may  testify  to  the 
vacuity  of  faith  and  joy  ;  sentiment  and  passion  came 
to  fill  the  void;  to  desire,  to  love,  to  pity,  to  suffer,  to 
weep,  was  to  live  the  true  life  of  the  heart. 

Madame  du  Deffand  (1697-1780)  might  oppose  the 
demon  of  ennui  with  the  aid  of  a  cool  temperament 
and  a  brilliant  wit  ;  at  sixty -eight,  whatever  ardour 
had  been  secretly  stored  up  in  her  nature  escaped  to 
lavish  itself  half-maternally  on  Horace  Walpole.  Her 
young  companion  and  reader,  who  became  a  rival  and 
robbed  her  salon  of  its  brilliance,  Mdlle.  de  Lespinasse 
(17327-76)  might  cherish  a  calm  friendship  for  D'Alem- 
bert.  When  M.  de  Guibert  came  to  succeed  M.  de 
Mora  in  her  affections,  she  poured  out  the  lava  torrent 
of  passion  in  those  Letters  which  have  given  her  a  place 
beside  Sappho  and  beside  Eloisa.  Madame  Roland  in 
her  girlhood  had  been  the  ardent  pupil  of  Rousseau, 
whose  Nouvelle  Httoise  was  to  her  as  a  revelation  from 
heaven.  The  first  appearance  in  literature  of  Madame 


BEAUMARCHAIS  323 

Necker's  amazing  daughter  was  as  the  eulogist  of 
Rousseau. 

The  intellect  untouched  by  emotion  may  be  aristo- 
cratic ;  passion  and  sentiment  have  popular  and  demo- 
cratic instincts.  "  The  Revolution  was  already  in  action," 
said  Napoleon,  "when  in  1784  Beaumarchais's  Manage 
de  Figaro  appeared  upon  the  stage."  If  Napoleon's 
words  overstate  the  fact,  we  may  at  least  name  that 
masterpiece  of  comedy  a  symptom  of  the  coming  ex- 
plosion, or  even,  in  Sainte-BeuVe's  words,  an  armed 
Fronde. 

Pierre-Augustin  Caron,  who  took  the  name  of  BEAU- 
MARCHAIS (1732-99),  son  of  a  watchmaker  of  Paris,  was 
born  under  a  merry  star,  with  a  true  genius  for  comedy, 
yet  his  theatrical  pieces  were  only  the  recreations  of  a 
man  of  affairs — a  demon  of  intrigue — determined  to  build 
up  his  fortune  by  financial  adventures  and  commercial 
enterprises.  Suddenly  in  1774-75  he  leaped  into  fame. 
Defeated  in  a  trial  in  which  his  claim  to  fifteen  thousand 
livres  was  disputed,  Beaumarchais,  in  desperate  circum- 
stances, made  his  appeal  to  public  opinion  in  four 
Memoires,  which  admirably  united  seriousness,  gaiety, 
argument,  irony,  eloquence,  and  dramatic  talent.  "  I 
am  a  citizen,"  he  cried — "  that  is  to  say,  something  wholly 
new,  unknown,  unheard  of  in  France.  I  am  a  citizen — 
that  is  to  say,  what  you  should  have  been  two  hundred 
years  ago,  what  perhaps  you  will  be  twenty  years  hence." 
The  word  "citizen"  sounded  strange  in  1774;  it  was 
soon  to  become  familiar. 

Before  this  incident  Beaumarchais  had  produced  two 
dramas,  Eugenie  and  Les  Deux  Amis,  of  the  tearful,  senti- 
mental, bourgeois  type,  yet  with  a  romantic  tendency, 
which  distinguishes  at  least  Eugenie  from  the  bourgeois 


324  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

drama  of  Diderot  and  of  Sedaine.  The  failure  of  the 
second  may  have  taught  their  author  the  wisdom  of 
mirth  ;  he  abandoned  his  high  dramatic  principles  to 
laugh  and  to  evoke  laughter.  Le  Barbier  de  Seville,  de- 
veloped from  a  comic  opera  to  a  comedy  in  five  acts, 
was  given,  after  long  delays,  in  1775.  The  spectators 
manifested  fatigue ;  instantly  the  play  reappeared  in  four 
acts,  Beaumarchais  having  lost  no  time  in  removing  the 
fifth  wheel  from  his  carriage.  It  delighted  the  public 
by  the  novelty  of  its  abounding  gaiety,  a  gaiety  full  and 
free,  yet  pointed  with  wit,  a  revolving  firework  scattering 
its  dazzling  spray.  The  old  comic  theme  of  the  amorous 
tutor,  the  charming  pupil,  the  rival  lover,  adorned  with 
the  prestige  of  youth,  the  intriguing  attendant,  was 
renewed  by  a  dialogue  which  was  alive  with  scintillating 
lights. 

From  the  success  of  the  Barbier  sprang  Le  Mariage 
de  Figaro.  Completed  in  1778,  the  royal  opposition  to  its 
performance  was  not  overcome  until  six  years  afterwards. 
By  force  of  public  opinion  the  watchmaker's  son  had 
triumphed  over  the  King.  The  subject  of  the  play  is  of 
a  good  tradition — a  daring  valet  disputes  the  claim  of  a 
libertine  lord  to  the  possession  of  his  betrothed.  Spanish 
colour  and  Italian  intrigue  are  added  to  the  old  mirth  of 
France.  From  Regnard  the  author  had  learnt  to  en- 
tangle a  varied  intrigue  ;  from  Lesage  he  borrowed  his 
Spanish  costumes  and  decoration — Figaro  himself  is  a 
Gil  Bias  upon  the  stage  ;  in  Marivaux  he  saw  how  women 
may  assert  themselves  in  comic  action  with  a  bright 
audacity.  The  Mariage  de  Figaro  resumes  the  past ;  it 
depicts  the  present,  as  a  social  satire,  and  a  painting  of 
manners ;  it  conveys  into  art  the  experience,  the  spirit, 
the  temerity  of  Beaumarchais's  adventurous  life  as  a  man 


THE  MARRIAGE  OF  FIGARO  325 

of  the  world  ;  it  creates  characters — Almaviva,  Suzanne, 
Figaro  himself,  the  budding  Che'rubin.  It  is  at  the  same 
time — or,  rather,  became  through  its  public  reception — 
a  pamphlet  in  comedy  which  announces  the  future ; 
it  ridicules  the  established  order  with  a  sprightly  in- 
solence ;  it  pleads  for  social  equality ;  it  exposes  the 
iniquity  of  aristocratic  privilege,  the  venality  of  justice, 
the  greed  of  courtiers,  the  chicanery  of  politicians. 
Figaro,  since  he  appeared  in  "  The  Barber  of  Seville,"  has 
grown  somewhat  of  a  moralist  and  a  pedant;  he  must 
play  the  part  of  censor  of  society,  he  must  represent  the 
spirit  of  independent  criticism,  he  must  maintain  the 
cause  of  intelligence  against  the  authority  of  rank  and 
station.  Beaumarchais  may  have  lacked  elevation  and 
delicacy,  but  he  knew  his  craft  as  a  dramatist,  and  left  a 
model  of  prose  comedy  from  which  in  later  years  others 
of  his  art  and  mystery  made  profitable  studies.  He 
restored  mirth  to  the  stage  ;  he  rediscovered  theatrical 
intrigue ;  he  created  a  type,  which  was  Beaumarchais 
himself,  and  was  also  the  lighter  genius  of  France ;  he 
was  the  satirist  of  society ;  he  was  the  nimble-feathered 
bird  that  foretells  the  storm. 


Ill 

BERNARDIN  DE  SAINT-PIERRE  connects  Rousseau  with 
Chateaubriand  and  the  romantic  school  of  the  nine- 
teenth century.  The  new  feeling  for  external  nature 
attained  through  him  a  wider  range,  embracing  the 
romance  of  tropic  lands  ;  it  acquired  an  element  of  the 
exotic  ;  at  the  same  time,  descriptive  writing  became 
more  vivid  and  picturesque,  and  the  vocabulary  for  the 


326  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

purposes  of  description  was  enlarged.  He  added  to 
French  literature  a  tale  in  which  human  passion  and 
the  sentiment  of  nature  are  fused  together  by  the  magic 
of  genius ;  he  created  two  figures  which  live  in  the 
popular  imagination,  encircled  with  a  halo  of  love  and 
sorrow. 

Born  at  Havre  in  1737,  Bernardin,  through  his  ima- 
gination, was  an  Utopian  visionary,  an  idyllic  dreamer ; 
through  his  temper,  an  angry  disputant  with  society. 
His  life  was  a  fantastic  series  of  adventures.  Having 
read  as  a  boy  the  story  of  Crusoe,  and  listened  to  the 
heroic  record  of  the  travels  and  sufferings  of  Jesuit 
missionaries,  his  fancy  caught  fire  ;  he  would  seek  some 
undiscovered  island  in  mid-ocean,  he  would  found  some 
colony  of  the  true  children  of  nature,  far  from  a  corrupt 
civilisation,  peaceable,  virtuous,  and  free. 

In  France,  in  Russia,  he  was  importunate  in  urging 
his  extravagant  designs  upon  persons  of  influence. 
When  the  French  Government  in  1767  commissioned 
him  to  work  in  Madagascar,  he  believed  that  his  dream 
was  to  come  true,  but  a  rude  awakening  and  the  accus- 
tomed quarrels  followed.  He  landed  on  the  Isle  of 
France,  purposing  to  work  as  an  engineer,  and  there 
spent  his  days  in  gazing  at  the  sea,  the  skies,  the 
mountains,  the  tropical  forests.  All  forms  and  colours 
and  sounds  and  scents  impressed  themselves  on  his 
brain,  and  were  transferred  to  his  collection  of  notes. 
When,  on  returning  to  Paris,  he  published  (1773)  his 
Voyage  a  I1  lie  de  France,  the  literature  of  picturesque 
description  may  be  said  to  have  been  founded.  Already 
in  this  volume  his  feeling  for  nature  is  inspired  by  an 
emotional  theism,  and  is  burdened  by  his  sentimental 
science,  which  would  exhibit  a  fantastic  array  of  evi- 


BERNARDIN  DE  SAINT-PIERRE  327 

dences  of  the  designs  for  human  welfare  of  an  amiable 
and  ingenious  Author  of  nature.  Before  the  book 
appeared,  Bernardin  had  made  the  acquaintance  of 
Rousseau,  then  living  in  retirement,  tormented  by  his 
diseased  suspicions  and  cloudy  indignations.  To  his 
new  disciple  Rousseau  was  in  general  gracious,  and  they 
rambled  together,  botanising  in  the  environs  of  Paris. 

For  a  time  Bernardin  himself  was  in  a  condition  bor- 
dering upon  insanity ;  but  the  crisis  passed,  and  he 
employed  himself  on  the  Etudes  de  la  Nature,  which 
appeared  in  three  volumes  in  1784.  The  tale  of  Paul 
et  Virginie  was  not  included;  for  when  the  author  had 
read  it  aloud,  though  ladies  wept,  the  sterner  auditors  had 
been  contemptuous ;  Thomas  slumbered,  and  Buffon 
called  for  his  carriage.  The  Etudes  accumulate  the 
grotesque  notions  of  Bernardin  with  reference  to  final 
causes  in  nature  :  nature  is  benevolent  and  harmo- 
nious ;  society  is  corrupt  and  harsh  ;  scientific  truth 
is  to  be  discovered  by  sentiment,  and  not  by  reason  ; 
the  whole  universe  is  planned  for  the  happiness  of 
man  ;  the  melon  is  large  because  it  was  designed  for 
the  family  ;  the  pumpkin  is  larger,  because  Providence 
intended  that  it  should  be  shared  with  our  neighbours. 
Providence,  indeed,  in  a  sceptical  and  mocking  gene- 
ration, suffered  cruelly  at  the  hands  of  its  advocate. 
Yet  Bernardin  conveyed  into  his  book  a  feeling  of  the 
rich  and  obscure  life  and  energy  of  nature ;  his  de- 
scriptive power  is  admirable.  "  He  desired,"  says  M. 
Barine,  "  to  open  the  door  for  Providence  to  enter  ;  in 
fact  he  opened  the  door  for  the  great  Pan,"  and  in 
this  he  was  a  precursor  of  much  that  followed  in 
literature. 

Bernardin's  fame  was  now  established.  In  .the  senti- 
22 


328  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

mental  reaction  against  the  dryness  of  sceptical  philo- 
sophy, in  the  return  to  a  feeling  for  the  poetical  aspect 
of  things,  he  was  looked  upon  as  a  leader.  In  the 
fourth  volume  of  Etudes  (1788)  he  had  courage  to  print 
the  tale  of  Paul  et  Virginie.  It  is  an  idyll  of  the  tropics, 
written  with  the  moral  purpose  of  contrasting  the  bene- 
ficent influence  of  nature  and  of  feeling  with  the  dangers 
and  evils  of  civilised  society  and  of  the  intellect.  The 
children  grow  up  side  by  side  in  radiant  innocence  and 
purest  companionship  ;  then  passion  makes  its  invasion 
of  their  hearts.  The  didactic  commonplaces  and  the 
faded  sentimentalities  of  the  idyll  may  veil,  but  cannot 
hide,  the  genuine  power  of  those  pages  which  tell  of  the 
modest  ardours  of  first  love.  An  element  of  melodrama 
mingles  with  the  tragic  close.  Throughout  we  do  more 
than  see  the  landscape  of  the  tropics  :  we  feel  the  life 
of  external  nature  throbbing  in  sympathy  with  human 
emotion.  Something  was  gained  by  Bernardin  from  the 
Daphnis  and  Chloe  of  Longus  in  the  motives  and  the 
details  of  his  story,  but  it  is  essentially  his  own.  It  had 
a  resounding  success,  and  among  its  most  ardent  admirers 
was  Napoleon. 

Bernardin  married  at  fifty-five,  and  became  the  father 
of  a  Paul  and  a  Virginie.  On  the  death  of  his  wife,  whom 
he  regarded  as  a  faithful  housekeeper,  he  married  again, 
and  his  life  was  divided  between  the  devotion  of  an  old 
man's  love  and  endless  quarrels  with  his  colleagues  of 
the  Institut.  His  later  writings  added  nothing  to  his 
fame.  La  Chaumiere  Indienne — the  story  of  a  pariah 
who  learns  wisdom  from  nature  and  from  the  heart — 
has  a  certain  charm,  but  it  lacks  the  power  of  the  better 
portions  of  Paul  et  Virginie.  The  Harmonies  de  la  Nature 
is  a  feeble  reflection  of  the  Etudes.  Chateaubriand,  to 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  ANTIQUITY  329 

whom  Bernardin  was  personally  known,  gave  a  grudging 
recognition  of  the  genius  of  his  precursor.  Lamartine, 
in  after  years,  was  a  more  generous  disciple.  In  January 
1814  Bernardin  died,  murmuring  the  name  of  God; 
among  the  great  events  of  the  time  his  death  was  almost 
unnoticed. 


IV 

In  the  second  half  of  the  eighteenth  century,  aided  by 
the  labours  of  the  Academic  des  Inscriptions  et  Belles- 
Lettres,  came  a  revival  of  the  study  of  antiquity  and  of 
the  sentiment  for  classical  art.  The  Count  de  Caylus 
(1692-1765),  travelling  in  Italy  and  the  East  with  the 
enthusiasm  of  an  archaeologist,  presented  in  his  writings 
an  ideal  of  beauty  and  grace  which  was  new  to  sculptors 
and  painters  of  the  time.  The  discovery  of  Pompeii  fol- 
lowed, after  an  interval,  the  discovery  of  Herculaneum. 
The  Abbe  BARTH£LEMY  (1716-95)  embodied  the  erudite 
delights  of  a  lifetime  in  his  Voyage  du  Jeune  Anacharsis 
en  Grhe  (1788),  which  seemed  a  revelation  of  the  genius 
of  Hellenism  as  it  existed  four  centuries  prior  to  the 
Christian  era.  It  was  an  ideal  Greece — the  Greece  of 
Winckelmann  and  Goethe  —  unalterably  gracious,  radi- 
antly calm,  which  was  discovered  by  the  eighteenth 
century ;  but  it  served  the  imaginative  needs  of  the  age. 
We  trace  its  influence  in  the  harmonious  forms  of 
Bernardin's  and  Chateaubriand's  imagining,  and  in  the 
marbles  of  Canova.  A  poet,  the  offspring  of  a  Greek 
mother  and  a  French  father — Andre"  Chenier — a  latter- 
day  Greek  or  demi-Greek  himself,  and  yet  truly  a  man 
of  his  own  century,  interpreted  this  new  ideal  in  literary 
art. 


330  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

Born  at  Constantinople  in  1762,  ANDR£  CH£NIER  was 
educated  in  France,  travelled  in  Switzerland  and  Italy, 
resided  as  secretary  to  the  French  Ambassador  for  three 
weary  years  in  England — land  of  mists,  land  of  dull  aris- 
tocrats— returned  to  France  in  1790,  ardent  in  the  cause 
of  constitutional  freedom,  and  defended  his  opinions  and 
his  friends  as  a  journalist.  The  violences  of  the  Revolu- 
tion drove  him  into  opposition  to  the  Jacobin  party.  In 
March  1794  he  was  arrested  ;  on  the  25th  July,  two  days 
before  the  overthrow  of  Robespierre,  Andre  Chenier's 
head  fell  on  the  scaffold. 

Only  two  poems,  the  Jen  de  Paume  and  the  Hymne 
aux  Suisses,  were  published  by  Chenier  ;  after  his  death 
appeared  in  journals  the  Jeune  Captive  and  the  Jeune 
Tarentine ;  his  collected  poems,  already  known  in  manu- 
script to  lovers  of  literature,  many  of  them  fragmentary, 
were  issued  in  1819.  The  romantic  school  had  come 
into  existence  without  his  aid  ;  but  under  Sainte-Beuve's 
influence  it  chose  to  regard  him  as  a  predecessor,  and 
during  the  years  about  1830  he  was  studied  and  imitated 
as  a  master. 

He  belongs,  however,  essentially  to  the  eighteenth 
century,  to  its  graceful  sensuality,  its  revival  of  antiquity, 
its  faith  in  human  reason,  its  comprehensive  science  of 
nature  and  of  society.  In  certain  of  his  poems  suggested 
by  public  occasions  he  is  little  more  than  a  disciple  of 
Lebrun.  His  Elegies  are  rather  Franco-Roman  than 
Greek  ;  these,  together  with  beauties  of  their  own,  have 
the  characteristic  rhetoric,  the  conventional  graces,  the 
mundane  voluptuousness  of  their  age.  His  philo- 
sophical poem  Hermes,  of  which  we  have  designs  and 
fragments,  would  have  been  the  De  Rerum  Natura  of  an 
admiring  student  of  Buffon. 


ANDRE   CHENIER  331 

In  his  fcglogues  and  his  epic  fragments  he  is  a  Greek  or 
a  demi-Greek,  who  has  learnt  directly  from  Homer,  from 
the  pastoral  and  idyllic  poets  of  antiquity,  and  from  the 
Anthology.  The  Greece  of  Chenier's  imagination  is  the 
ideal  Greece  of  his  time,  more  finely  outlined,  more  deli- 
cately coloured,  more  exquisitely  felt  by  him  than  was 
possible  with  his  contemporaries  in  an  age  of  prose.  "  It 
is  the  landscape-painter's  Greece,"  writes  M.  Faguet,  "the 
Greece  of  fair  river-banks,  of  gracious  hill-slopes,  of 
comely  groups  around  a  well-head  or  a  stream,  of  har- 
monious theories  beside  the  voiceful  sea,  of  dancing 
choirs  upon  the  luminous  heights,  under  the  blue 
heavens,  which  lift  to  ecstasy  his  spirit,  light  as  the  light 
breathing  of  the  Cyclades." 

In  the  lambeSf  inspired  by  the  emotions  of  the  Revolu- 
tion during  his  months  of  imprisonment,  Chenier  united 
*  modern  passion  with  the  beauty  of  classic  form ;  satire 
in  these  loses  its  critical  temper,  and  becomes  truly 
lyrical.  In  his  versification  he  attained  new  and  alluring 
harmonies ;  he  escaped  from  the  rhythmical  uniformity 
of  eighteenth- century  verse,  gliding  sinuously  from  line 
to  line  and  from  strophe  to  strophe.  He  did  over  again 
for  French  poetry  the  work  of  the  Pleiade,  but  he  did 
this  as  one  who  was  a  careful  student  and  a  critic  of 
Malherbe. 


BOOK   THE    FIFTH 

1789-1850 


BOOK    THE    FIFTH 

1789-1850 

CHAPTER  I 

THE  REVOLUTION  AND  THE  EMPIRE— MADAME 
DE  STAEL— CHATEAUBRIAND 

I 

THE  literature  of  the  Revolution  and  the  Empire  is  that 
of  a  period  of  transition.  Madame  de  Stael  and  Chateau- 
briand announce  the  future  ;  the  writers  of  an  inferior 
rank  represent  with  declining  power  the  past,  and  give 
some  faint  presentiment  of  things  to  come.  The  great 
political  concussion  was  not  favourable  to  art.  Abstract 
ideas  united  with  the  passions  of  the  hour  produced  poetry 
which  was  of  the  nature  of  a  declamatory  pamphlet. 
Innumerable  pieces  were  presented  on  the  stage,  but 
their  literary  value  is  insignificant. 

Marie-Joseph  Chenier  (1764-1811),  brother  of  the  great 
poet  who  perished  on  the  scaffold,  attempted  to  inau- 
gurate a  school  of  national  tragedy  in  his  Charles  IX. ; 
neither  he  nor  the  public  knew  history  or  possessed  the 
historical  sentiment — his  tragedy  was  a  revolutionary 
"  school  of  kings."  Arnault,  Legouve,  Neppmucene, 

335 


336  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

Lemercier  were  applauded  for  their  classic  dignity,  or 
their  depth  of  characterisation,  or  their  pomp  of  lan- 
guage. The  true  tragedy  of  the  time  was  enacted  in  the 
streets  and  in  the  clubs.  Comedy  was  welcome  in  days 
of  terror  as  at  all  other  times.  Collin  d'Harleville  drew 
mirth  from  the  infirmities  and  follies  of  old  age  in  Le 
Vieux  Celibataire  (1792)  ;  Fabre  d'Eglantine  moralised 
Moliere  to  the  taste  of  Rousseau  by  exhibiting  a  Philante 
debased  by  egoism  and  accommodations  with  the  world ; 
Louis  Laya,  during  the  trial  of  the  King,  satirised  the 
pretenders  to  patriotism  in  L'Ami  des  Lois,  yet  escaped 
the  vengeance  of  the  Jacobins. 

Historical  comedy,  a  novelty  in  art,  was  seen  in  Lemer- 
cier's  Pinto  (1799),  where  great  events  are  reduced  to 
petty  dimensions,  and  the  destiny  of  nations  is  satirically 
viewed  as  a  vulgar  game  of  trick-track.  In  his  Christophe 
Colomb  of  1809  he  dared  to  despise  the  unities  of  time 
and  place,  and  excited  a  battle,  not  bloodless,  among  the 
spectators.  Exotic  heroes  suited  the  imperial  regime. 
Baour-Lormian,  the  translator  of  Ossian  (1801),  converted 
the  story  of  Joseph  in  Egypt  into  a  frigid  tragedy ; 
Hector  and  Tippoo  Sahib,  Mahomet  II.,  and  Ninus  II. 
(with  scenes  of  Spanish  history  transported  to  Assyria) 
diversified  the  stage.  The  greatest  success  was  that  of 
Raynouard's  Les  Templiers  (1805) ;  the  learned  author 
wisely  applied  his  talents  in  later  years  to  romance  philo- 
logy. Among  the  writers  of  comedy — Andrieux,  Etienne, 
Duval,  and  others — Picard  has  the  merit  of  reproducing 
the  life  of  the  day,  satirising  social  classes  and  conditions 
with  vivacity  and  careless  mirth.  In  melodrama,  Pixere- 
court  contributed  unconsciously  to  prepare  the  way  for 
the  romantic  stage.  Desaugiers,  with  his  gift  for  gay 
plebeian  song,  was  the  master  of  the  vaudeville. 


POETRY  OF  THE  EMPIRE  337 

Song  of  a  higher  kind  had  been  heard  twice  or  thrice 
during  the  Revolution.  The  lesser  Chenier's  Chanson  du 
Depart  has  in  it  a  stirring  rhetoric  for  soldiers  of  the  Re- 
public sent  forth  to  war  with  the  acclaim  of  mother  and 
wife  and  maiden,  old  men  and  little  children.  Lebrun- 
Pindare,  in  his  ode  Sur  le  Vaisseau  le  Vengeur,  does  not 
quite  stifle  the  sense  of  heroism  under  his  flowers  of 
classical  imagery.  Rouget  de  Lisle's  improvised  verse 
and  music,  La  Marseillaise  (1792),  was  an  inspiration 
which  equally  lent  itself  to  the  enthusiasm  of  victory 
and  the  gallantries  of  despair.  The  pseudo-epics  and 
the  descriptive  poetry  of  the  Empire  are  laboured  and 
lifeless.  But  Creuze  de  Lesser,  in  his  Chevaliers  de  la 
Table-Ronde  (1812)  and  other  poems,  and  Baour-Lormian, 
in  his  Poe'sies  Ossianiques,  widened  the  horizons  of  litera- 
ture. The  Panhypocrisiade  of  Lemercier,  published  in 
1819,  but  written  several  years  earlisr — an  "infernal 
comedy  of  the  sixteenth  century  " — is  an  amazing  chaos 
of  extravagance,  incompetence,  and  genius ;  it  bears  to 
Hugo's  Legende  des  Stides  the  relation  which  the  mega- 
therium or  mastodon  may  bear  to  some  less  monstrous 
analogues. 

If  we  are  to  look  for  a  presentiment  of  Lamartine's 
poetry,  we  may  find  it  in  the  harmonious  melancholy  of 
Chenedolle,  in  the  grace  of  Fontanes'  stanzas,  in  the 
timid  elegiac  strains  of  Millevoye.  The  special  charac- 
ter of  the  poetry  of  the  Empire  lies  in  its  combination 
of  the  tradition  derived  from  the  eighteenth  century, 
with  a  certain  reaching-forth  to  an  ideal,  by-and-by  to 
be  realised,  which  it  could  not  attain.  Its  comparative 
sterility  is  not  to  be  explained  solely  or  chiefly  *  by 
the  vigilance  of  the  imperial  censure  of  publications. 
The  preceding  century  had  lost  the  large  feeling  for 


338  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

composition,  for  beauty  and  severity  of  form  ;  attention 
was  fixed  upon  details.  If  invention  ceased  to  create, 
it  must  necessarily  trick  out  what  was  commonplace  in 
ingenuities  of  decorative  periphrasis.  Literature  in  the 
eighteenth  century  had  almost  ceased  to  be  art,  and 
had  become  a  social  and  political  weapon  ;  under  the 
imperial  rule  this  militant  function  was  withdrawn  ; 
what  remained  for  literature  but  frigid  ambitions  or 
petty  adornments,  until  a  true  sense  of  art  was  once 
again  recovered  ? 

The  Revolution  closed  the  salons  and  weakened  the 
influence  of  cultivated  society  upon  literature.  Journal- 
ism and  the  pamphlet  filled  the  place  left  vacant  by 
the  salons.  The  Decade  Philosophique  was  the  organ  of 
the  ideologists,  who  applied  the  conceptions  of  Condillac 
and  his  followers  to  literary  and  philosophical  criticism. 
In  1789  the  Journal  dcs  Dcbats  was  founded.  Much 
ardour  of  feeling,  much  vigour  of  intellect  was  ex- 
pended in  the  columns  of  the  public  press.  Among 
the  contributors  were  Andre  Chenier,  Mallet  du  Pin, 
Suard,  Rivarol.  With  a  little  ink  and  a  guillotine, 
Camiile  Desmoulins  hoped  to  render  France  happy, 
prosperous,  and  republican.  Heady,  vain,  pleasure- 
loving,  gay,  bitter,  sensitive,  with  outbreaks  of  generosity 
and  moments  of  elevation,  he  did  something  to  redeem 
his  crimes  and  follies  by  pleas  for  justice  and  mercy 
in  his  journal,  Le  Vieux  Cordelier,  and  died,  with  Danton 
as  his  companion,  after  a  frenzy  of  resistance  and 
despair. 

The  orators  of  the  Revolution  glorified  doctrinaire 
abstractions,  overflowed  with  sentimental  humanity, 
and  decorated  their  harangues  with  heroic  examples  of 
Roman  virtue.  The  most  abstract,  colourless,  and  aca- 


MIRABEAU  339 

demic  was  Rousseau's  disciple,  who  took  the  "  Supreme 
Being"  under  his  protection,  Robespierre.  The  fervid 
spirit  of  the  Girondins  found  its  highest  expression  in 
Vergniaud,  who,  with  infirm  character,  few  ideas,  and 
a  hesitating  policy,  yet  possessed  a  power  of  vibrating 
speech.  Danton,  the  Mirabeau  of  the  populace,  was 
richer  in  ideas,  and  with  sudden  accesses  of  imagina- 
tion thundered  in  words  which  tended  to  action  ;  but  in 
general  the  Mountain  cared  more  for  deeds,  than  words. 
The  young  Saint-Just  thrilled  the  Convention  with  icy 
apothegms  which  sounded  each,  short  and  sharp,  like 
the  fall  of  the  knife.  Barnave,  impetuous  in  his  temper, 
was  clear  and  measured  in  discourse,  and  once  in  opposi- 
tion to  Mirabeau,  defending  the  royal  prerogative,  rose 
beyond  himself  to  the  height  of  a  great  occasion. 

But  it  was  MIRABEAU,  and  Mirabeau  alone,  who  pos- 
sessed the  genius  of  a  great  statesman  united  with  the 
gifts  of  an  incomparable  orator.  Born  in  1749,  of  the 
old  Riquetti  family,  impulsive,  proud,  romantic,  yet  clear 
of  intellect  and  firmly  grasping  facts,  a  thinker  and  a 
student,  calmly  indifferent  to  religion,  irregular  in  his 
conduct,  the  passionate  foe  of  his  father,  the  passionate 
lover  of  his  Sophie  and  of  her  child,  he  had  conceived, 
and  in  a  measure  comprehended,  the  Revolution  long 
before  the  explosion  came.  Already  he  was  a  copious 
author  on  political  subjects.  He  knew  that  France 
needed  individual  liberty  and  individual  responsibility; 
he  divined  the  dangers  of  a  democratic  despotism.  He 
hoped  by  the  decentralisation  of  power  to  balance  Paris 
by  the  provinces,  and  quicken  the  political  life  of  the 
whole  country;  he  desired  to  balance  the  constitution 
by  playing  off  the  King  against  the  Assembly,  and  the 
Assembly  against  the  Kirg,  and  to  control  the  action  of 


340  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

each  by  the  force  of  public  opinion.  From  Montesquieu 
he  had  learnt  the  gains  of  separating  the  legislative,  the 
executive,  and  the  judicial  functions.  His  hatred  of 
aristocracy,  enhanced  by  the  hardship  of  imprisonment 
at  Vincennes,  led  him  to  ignore  an  influence  which  might 
have  assisted  in  the  equilibration  of  power.  As  an  orator 
his  ample  and  powerful  rhetoric  rested  upon  a  basis  of 
logic ;  slow  and  embarrassed  as  he  began  to  speak,  he 
warmed  as  he  proceeded,  negligent  of  formal  correct- 
ness, disdainful  of  the  conventional  classical  decorations, 
magnificent  in  gesture,  weaving  together  ideas,  imagery, 
and  passion.  His  speech,  said  Madame  de  Stael,  was 
"like  a  powerful  hammer,  wielded  by  a  skilful  artist, 
and  fashioning  men  to  his  will."  At  the  sitting  of  the 
Assembly  on  April  2,  1791,  the  President  announced, 
amid  murmurs,  "  Ah !  il  est  mort,"  which  anticipated  his 
words,  that  Gabriel-Honore  Riquetti  was  dead. 

"The  1 8th  Brumaire,"  writes  M.  Lanson,  "silenced 
the  orators.  For  fifteen  years  a  solitary  voice  was  heard, 
imperious  but  eloquent.  .  .  .  Napoleon  was  the  last  of 
the  great  Revolutionary  orators."  As  he  advanced  in 
power  he  dropped  the  needless  ornaments  of  rhetoric, 
and  condensed  his  summons  to  action  into  direct,  effec- 
tive words,  now  simple  and  going  straight  at  some  motive 
of  self-interest,  now  grandiose  to  seduce  the  imagination 
to  his  side.  Speech  with  Napoleon  was  a  means  of 
government,  and  he  knew  the  temper  of  the  men  whom 
he  addressed.  His  own  taste  in  literature  was  touched 
with  sentimentality ;  Ossian  and  Werther  were  among 
his  favourite  books  ;  but  what  may  be  styled  the  official 
literature  of  the  Empire  was  of  the  decaying  classical  or 
neo-classical  tradition. 

Yet  while  the  democratic  imperialism  was  the  direct 


SCHOLARSHIP  AND  PHILOSOPHY         341 

offspring  of  the  Revolution  with  its  social  contract  and 
its  rights  of  man,  it  was  necessary  to  combat  eighteenth- 
century  ideas  and  defend  the  throne  and  the  altar.  Great 
scientific  names — Laplace,  Bichat,  Cuvier,  Lamarck- 
testify  to  the  fact  that  a  movement  which  made  the 
eighteenth  century  illustrious  had  not  spent  its  force. 
Scholarship  was  laying  the  bases  for  future  construc- 
tions ;  Ginguene  published  in  1811  the  first  volumes 
of  his  Histoire  Litteraire  de  I'ltalie ;  Fauriel  and  Ray- 
nouard  accumulated  the  materials  for  their  historical, 
literary,  and  philological  studies.  Philosophy  was  turn- 
ing away  from  sensationalism,  which  seemed  to  have 
said  its  final  word,  towards  spiritualist  conceptions. 
Maine  de  Biran  (1766-1824)  found  in  the  primitive 
fact  of  consciousness — the  nisus  of  the  will — and  in 
the  self-recognition  of  the  ego  as  a  cause,  an  escape 
from  materialism.  Royer  -  Collard  (1763-1845),  after- 
wards more  distinguished  in  politics  than  he  was  in 
speculation,  read  for  his  class  at  the  Sorbonne  from 
the  Scottish  philosophy  of  Reid,  and  turned  it  by  his 
commentary  as  a  siege-train  against  the  positions  of 
Condillac. 

The  germs  of  new  literary  growths  were  in  the  soil ; 
but  the  spring  came  slowly,  and  after  the  storms  of 
Revolution  were  spent,  a  chill  was  in  the  air.  Measure- 
less hopes,  and  what  had  come  of  them  ?  infinite  desire, 
and  so  poor  an  attainment !  A  disciple  of  Rousseau, 
who  shared  in  his  sentiment  without  his  optimistic  faith, 
and  who,  like  Rousseau,  felt  the  beauty  of  external  nature 
without  Rousseau's  sense  of  its  joy,  Etienne  Pivert  de 
S£NANCOURT  published  in  1799  his  Reveries,  a  book  of 
disillusion,  melancholy  atheism,  and  stoical  resistance  to 
sadness,  a  resistance  which  he  was  unable  to  sustain. 


342  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

It  was  followed  in  1804  by  Obennann,  a  romance  in 
epistolary  form,  in  which  the  writer,  disguised  in  the 
character  of  his  hero,  expresses  a  fixed  and  sterile  grief, 
knowing  not  what  he  needs,  nor  what  he  loves,  nor  what 
he  wills,  lamenting  without  a  cause  and  desiring  without 
an  object.  The  glories  of  Swiss  landscape,  which  quicken 
his  imagination,  do  not  suffice  to  fill  the  void  that  is  in 
his  soul ;  yet  perhaps  in  old  age — if  ever  it  come — he 
may  resign  himself  to  the  infinite  illusion  of  life.  It  is 
an  indication  of  the  current  of  the  time  that  fifteen 
years  later,  when  the  Libres  Meditations  appeared,  Senan- 
court  had  found  his  way  through  a  vague  theopathy  to 
autumnal  brightness,  late-born  hope,  and  tranquil  recon- 
cilement writh  existence. 

The  work  of  the  professional  critics  of  the  time — 
Geoff roy,  De  Feletz,  Dussault,  Hoffman — counts  now 
for  less  than  the  words  of  one  who  was  only  an  amateur 
of  letters,  and  a  moralist  who  never  moralised  in  public. 
JOSEPH  JOUBERT  (1754-1824),  the  friend  of  Fontanes  and 
of  Chateaubriand,  a  delicate  spirit,  filled  with  curiosity 
for  ideas,  and  possessing  the  finest  sense  of  the  beauty 
of  literature,  lacked  the  strength  and  self-confidence 
needful  in  a  literary  career.  He  read  everything  ;  he 
published  nothing ;  but  the  Pensees,  wiiich  were  col- 
lected from  his  manuscripts  by  Chateaubriand,  and  his 
letters  reveal  a  thinker  who  loved  the  light,  a  studious 
dilettante  charmed  by  literary  grace,  a  writer  tormented 
by  the  passion  to  put  a  volume  in  a  page,  a  page  in  a 
phrase,  a  phrase  in  a  word.  Plato  in  philosophy,  Virgil 
in  poetry,  satisfy  his  feeling  for  beauty  and  refinement 
of  style.  From  Voltaire  and  Rousseau  he  turns  away, 
offended  by  their  lack  of  moral  feeling,  of  sanity,  of 
wisdom,  of  delicacy.  A  man  of  the  eighteenth  century, 


MADAME  DE  STAEL  343 

Joubert  had  lifted  himself  into  thin  clear  heights  of 
middle  air,  where  he  saw  much  of  the  past  and  some- 
thing of  the  future  ;  but  the  middle  air  is  better  suited 
for  speculation  than  for  action. 


II 

The  movement  towards  the  romantic  theory  and  prac- 
tice of  art  was  fostered  in  the  early  years  of  the  nine- 
teenth century  by  two  eminent  writers — one  a  woman 
with  a  virile  intellect,  the  other  a  man  with  more  than  a 
woman's  imaginative  sensibility — by  GERMAINE  DE  STAEL 
and  by  Chateaubriand.  The  one  exhibits  the  eighteenth 
century  passing  into  the  nineteenth,  receiving  new  de- 
velopments, yet  without  a  breach  of  continuity ;  the 
other  represents  a  reaction  against  the  ideas  of  the  age 
of  the  philosophers.  Both  opened  new  horizons — one, 
by  the  divinations  of  her  ardent  intelligence  ;  the  other, 
by  his  creative  genius.  Madame  de  Stael  interpreted 
new  ideas  and  denned  a  new  theory  of  art.  Chateau- 
briand was  himself  an  extraordinary  literary  artist.  The 
style  of  the  one  is  that  of  an  admirable  improvisator, 
a  brilliant  and  incessant  converser ;  that  of  the  other 
is  at  its  best  a  miracle  of  studied  invention,  a  harmony 
of  colour  and  of  sound.  The  genius  of  the  one  was 
quickened  in  brilliant  social  gatherings ;  a  Parisian  salon 
was  her  true  seat  of  empire.  The  genius  of  the  other 
was  nursed  in  solitude  by  the  tempestuous  sea  or  on 
the  w7ild  and  melancholy  moors. 

Germaine  Necker,  born  in  1766,  daughter  of  the  cele- 
brated Swiss  banker  and  future  minister  of  France,  a 
child  of  precocious  intelligence  and  eager  sympathies, 
23 


344  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

reared  amid  the  brilliant  society  of  her  mother's  salon, 
a  girl  whose  demands  on  life  were  large — demands  of 
the  intellect,  demands  of  the  heart — enamoured  of  the 
writings  of  Rousseau,  married  at  twenty  to  the  Swedish 
Ambassador,  the  Baron  de  Stael-Holstein,  herself  a  light 
and  an  inspirer  of  the  constitutional  party  of  reform  in 
the  early  days  of  the  Revolution,  in  her  literary  work 
opened  fresh  avenues  for  nineteenth-century  thought. 
She  did  not  recoil  from  the  eighteenth  century,  but 
rather  carried  forward  its  better  spirit.  The  Revolution, 
as  a  social  upheaval,  she  failed  to  understand  ;  her  ideal 
was  liberty,  not  equality  ;  and  Necker's  daughter  was 
assured  that  all  would  be -well  were  liberty  established 
in  constitutional  forms  of  government.  A  republican 
among  aristocrats,  she  was  an  aristocrat  among  republi- 
cans. During  the  years  of  Revolutionary  trouble,  the 
years  of  her  flights  from  Paris,  her  returns,  excursions, 
and  retreats,  she  was  sustained  by  her  zeal  for  justice, 
her  pity  for  the  oppressed,  and  her  unquenchable  faith 
in  human  progress. 

A  crude  panegyric  of  Rousseau,  certain  political 
pamphlets,  an  Essai  sur  les  Fictions,  a  treatise  on  the 
Influence  of  the  Passions  upon  the  Happiness  of  Indi- 
viduals and  Nations  (1796),  were  followed  in  1800  by 
her  elaborate  study,  De  la  Litt<-rature  consideree  dans  ses 
Rapports  avec  les  Institutions  Sociales.  Its  central  idea 
is  that  of  human  progress :  freedom,  incarnated  in 
republican  institutions,  will  assure  the  natural  develop- 
ment of  the  spirit  of  man  ;  a  great  literature  will  be 
the  offspring  of  progress  and  of  freedom  ;  and  each 
nation  will  lend  its  lights  to  other  nations  to  illuminate 
the  general  advance.  Madame  de  Stael  hoped  to  cast 
the  spell  of  her  intellect  over  the  young  conqueror 


ADOLPHE:   DELPHINE  345 

Bonaparte  ;  Bonaparte  regarded  a  political  meteor  in 
feminine  form  with  cold  and  haughty  aversion.  In 
1802  the  husband,  whom  she  had  never  loved,  was 
dead.  Her  passion  for  Benjamin  Constant  had  passed 
through  various  crises  in  its  troubled  career — a  series 
of  attractions  ending  in  repulsions,  and  repulsions  lead- 
ing to  attractions,  such  as  may  be  discovered  in  Con- 
stant's remarkable  novel  Adolphe.  They  could  neither 
decide  to  unite  their  lives,  nor  to  part  for  ever.  Adolphe, 
in  Constant's  novel,  after  a  youth  of  pleasure-seeking, 
is  disenchanted  with  life  ;  his  love  of  Ellenore  is  that 
of  one  whose  passions  are  exhausted,  who  loves  for 
vanity  or  a  new  indulgence  of  egoism  ;  but  Ellenore, 
whose  youth  is  past,  will  abandon  all  for  him,  and  she 
imposes  on  him  the  tyranny  of  her  devotion.  Each  is 
the  other's  torturer,  each  is  the  other's  consolation.  In 
the  mastery  of  his  cruel  psychology  Constant  anticipates 
Balzac. 

Madame  de  Stael  lightened  the  stress  of  inward  storm 
by  writing  Delphine,  the  story  of  a  woman  of  genius, 
whose  heroic  follies  bring  her  into  warfare  with  the 
world.  The  lover  of  Delphine,  violent  and  feeble,  sen- 
timental and  egoistic,  is  an  accomplice  of  the  world  in 
doing  her  wrong,  and  Delphine  has  n<a  refuge  but  death 
in  the  wilds  of  America.1 

In  1803  Madame  de  Stael  received  orders  to  trouble 
Paris  with  her  torrent  of  ideas  and  of  speech  no  longer. 
The  illustrious  victim  of  Napoleon's  persecution  has- 
tened to  display  her  ideas  at  Weimar,  where  Goethe 
protected  his  equanimity,  as  well  as  might  be,  from 
the  storm  of  her  approach,  and  Schiller  endured  her 
literary  enthusiasm  with  a  sense  of  prostration.  August 

1  In  the  first  edition,  Delphine  dies  by  her  own  hand. 


346  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

Wilhelm  von  Schlegel,  tutor  to  her  sons,  became  the 
interpreter  of  Germany  to  her  eager  and  apprehensive 
mind.  Having  annexed  Germany  to  her  empire,  she 
advanced  to  the  conquest  of  Italy,  and  had  her  Roman 
triumph.  England,  which  she  had  visited  in  her  Re- 
volutionary flights,  and  Italy  conspired  in  the  creation 
of  her  novel  Corinne  (1807).  It  is  again  the  history  of  a 
woman  of  genius,  beautiful,  generous,  enthusiastic,  whom 
the  world  understands  imperfectly,  and  whom  her  Eng- 
lish lover,  after  his  fit  of  Italian  romance,  discards  with 
the  characteristic  British  phlegm.  The  paintings  of 
Italian  nature  are  rhetorical  exercises  ;  the  writer's  sym- 
pathy with  art  and  history  is  of  more  value  ;  the  inter- 
pretation of  a  woman's  heart  is  alive  with  personal 
feeling.  Madame  de  Stael's  novels  are  old  now,  which 
means  that  they  once  were  young,  and  for  her  own 
generation  they  had  the  freshness  and  charm  of 
youth. 

Her  father's  death  had  turned  her  thoughts  towards 
religion.  A  Protestant  and  a  liberal,  her  spiritualist 
faith  now  found  support  in  the  moral  strength  of  Chris- 
tianity. She  was  not,  like  Chateaubriand,  an  epicurean 
and  a  Catholic  ;  she  did  not  care  to  decorate  religion 
with  flowers,  or  make  it  fragrant  with  incense ;  it 
spoke  to  her  not  through  the  senses,  but  directly  to 
the  conscience,  the  affections,  and  the  will.  In  the 
chapters  of  her  book  on  Germany  which  treat  of  "the 
religion  of  enthusiasm,"  her  devout  latitudinarianism 
finds  expression. 

The  bookDe  t'AMemagne,  published  in  London  in  1813, 
after  the  confiscation  and  destruction  of  the  Paris  edition 
by  the  imperial  police,  prepared  the  way  by  criticism 
for  the  romantic  movement.  It  treats  of  manners,  letters, 


DE  L'ALLEMAGNE  347 

art,  philosophy,  religion,  interpreting  with  astonishing 
insight,  however  it  may  have  erred  in  important  details, 
the  mind  of  Germany  to  the  mind  of  France.  It  was 
a  Germany  of  poets,  dreamers,  and  metaphysicians, 
loyal  and  sincere,  but  incapable  of  patriotic  passion, 
disqualified  for  action  and  for  freedom,  which  she  in 
1804  had  discovered.  The  life  of  society  produces  lite- 
rature in  France  ;  the  genius  of  inward  meditation  and 
sentiment  produces  literature  in  Germany.  The  litera- 
ture and  art  of  the  South  are  classical,  those  of  the 
North  are  romantic  ;  and  since  the  life  of  our  own 
race  and  the  spirit  of  our  own  religion  are  infused 
into  romantic  art,  it  has  in  it  possibilities  of  indefinite 
growth.  Madame  de  Stael  advanced  criticism  by  her 
sense  that  art  and  literature  are  relative  to  ages,  races, 
governments,  environments.  She  dreamed  of  an  Euro- 
pean or  cosmopolitan  literature,  in  which  each  nation, 
while  retaining  its  special  characteristics,  should  be  in 
fruitful  communication  with  its  fellows. 

In  1811  Madame  de  Stael,  when  forty-five,  became  the 
wife  of  Albert  de  Rocca,  a  young  Swiss  officer,  more 
than  twenty  years  her  junior.  Their  courage  was  re- 
warded by  six  years  of  happiness.  Austria,  Poland, 
Russia,  Sweden,  England  were  visited.  Upon  the  fall 
of  Napoleon  Madame  de  Stael  was  once  more  in  Paris, 
and  there  in  1817  she  died.  The  Dix  Annees  d'Exil,  pos- 
thumously published,  records  a  portion  of  her  agitated 
life,  and  exhales  her  indignation  against  her  imperial 
persecutor.  The  unfinished  Considerations  sur  la  Revolu- 
tion Fran^aise,  designed  originally  as  an  apology  for 
Necker,  defends  the  Revolution  while  admitting  its 
crimes  and  errors  ;  its  true  object,  as  the  writer  con- 
ceived— political  liberty — had  been  in  the  end  attained  ; 


348  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

her  ideal  of  liberty  was  indeed  far  from  that  of  a  revolu- 
tionary democracy;  England,  liberal,  constitutional,  with 
a  system  at  once  popular  and  aristocratic,  was  the  country 
in  which  she  saw  her  political  aspirations  most  nearly 
realised. 


Ill 

FRANCOIS-RENE  DE  CHATEAUBRIAND  Was  born  in  1768, 

at  St.-Malo,  of  an  ancient  Breton  family.  Except  for  the 
companionship  of  an  elder  sister,  of  fragile  health  and 
romantic  temper,  his  childhood  was  solitary.  The  pre- 
sence of  the  old  count  his  father  inspired  terror.  The 
boy's  society  was  with  the  waves  and  winds,  or  at  the 
old  chateau  of  Combourg,  with  lonely  woods  and  wilds. 
Horace,  Tibullus,  Tettmaque,  the  sermons  of  Massillon, 
nourished  his  imagination  or  stimulated  his  religious 
sentiment ;  but  solitude  and  nature  were  his  chief  in- 
spirers. 

At  seventeen  he  already  seemed  worn  with  the  fatigue 
of  unsatisfied  dreaming,  before  he  had  begun  to  know 
life.  A  commission  in  the  army  was  procured  for  him. 
He  saw,  interested  yet  alien  in  heart,  something  of  literary 
life  in  Paris  ;  then  in  Revolution  days  (1791)  he  quitted 
France,  and,  with  the  dream  of  discovering  the  North- 
West  Passage,  set  sail  to  America.  If  he  did  not  make 
any  geographical  discovery,  Chateaubriand  found  his 
own  genius  in  the  western  world.  The  news  of  the 
execution  of  Louis  XVI.  decided  him  to  return;  a  Breton 
and  a  royalist  should  show  himself  among  the  ranks  of 
the  emigrants.  To  gratify  the  wish  of  his  family,  he  mar- 
ried before  crossing  the  frontier.  Madame  de  Chateau- 


CHATEAUBRIAND  349 

briand  had  the  dignity  to  veil  her  sorrow  caused  by  an 
imperfect  union,  and  at  a  later  time  she  won  such  a  portion 
of  her  husband's  regard  as  he  could  devote  to  another 
than  himself. 

The  episode  of  war  having  soon  closed — not  without 
a  wound  and  a  serious  illness — he  found  a  refuge  in 
London,  enduring  dire  poverty,  but  possessing  the  con- 
solation of  friendship  with  Joubert  and  Fontanes,  and 
there  he  published  in  1797  his  first  work,  the  Essai  sur 
les  Revolutions.  The  doctrine  of  human  progress  had  been 
part  of  the  religion  of  the  eighteenth  century  ;  Chateau- 
briand in  1797  had  faith  neither  in  social,  nor  political, 
nor  religious  progress.  Why  be  deceived  by  the  hopes 
of  revolution,  since  humanity  can  only  circle  for  ever 
through  an  exhausting  round  of  illusions  ?  The  death 
of  his  mother  and  words  of  a  dying  sister  awakened  him 
from  his  melancholy  mood  ;  he  resolved  to  write  a  second 
book,  which  should  correct  the  errors  of  the  first,  and 
exhibit  a  sourqe  of  hope  and  joy  in  religion.  To  the 
eighteenth  century  Christianity  had  appeared  as  a  gross 
and  barbarous  superstition  ;  he  would  show  that  it  was  a 
religion  of  beauty,  the  divine  mother  of  poetry  and  of 
art,  a  spring  of  poetic  thought  and  feeling  alike  through 
its  dogma  and  its  ritual ;  he  would  convert  literature  from 
its  decaying  cult  of  classicism,  and  restore  to  honour  the 
despised  Middle  Ages. 

The  Genie  du  Christianisme,  begun  during  its  author's 
residence  in  London,  was  not  completed  until  four  years 
later.  In  1801,  detaching  a  fragment  from  his  poetic 
apology  for  religion,  he  published  his  Atala,  ou  les  Amours 
de  Deux  Sauvages  dans  le  Desert.  It  is  a  romance,  or 
rather  a  prose  poem,  in  which  the  magic  of  style,  the 
enchantment  of  descriptive  power,  the  large  feeling  for 


350  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

nature,  the  sensibility  to  human  passion,  conceal  many 
infirmities  of  design  and  of  feeling.  Chateaubriand 
suddenly  entered  into  his  fame. 

On  April  18,  1802,  the  Concordat  was  celebrated  with 
high  solemnities ;  the  Archbishop  of  Paris  received  the 
First  Consul  within  the  portals  of  Notre-Dame.  It  was 
the  fitting  moment  for  the  publication  of  the  Ge'nie  du 
CJiristianisme.  Its  value  as  an  argumentative  defence 
of  Christianity  may  not  be  great ;  but  it  was  the  restora- 
tion of  religion  to  art,  it  contained  or  implied  a  new 
system  of  aesthetics,  it  was  a  glorification  of  devout 
sentiment,  it  was  a  pompous  manifesto  of  romanticism, 
it  recovered  a  lost  ideal  of  beauty.  From  Ronsard  to 
Chenier  the  aim  of  art  had  been  to  imitate  the  ancients, 
while  imitating  or  interpreting  life.  Let  us  be  national, 
let  us  be  modern,  let  us  therefore  be  Christians,  de- 
clared Chateaubriand,  and  let  us  seek  for  our  tradition 
in  the  great  Christian  ages.  It  was  a  revolution  in  art 
for  which  he  pleaded,  and  throughout  the  first  half 
of  the  nineteenth  century  the  revolution  was  in  active 
progress. 

The  episode  of  Rene,  which  was  included  in  the  Genie, 
and  afterwards  published  separately,  has  been  described 
as  a  Christianised  Werther;  its  passion  is  less  frank,  and 
even  more  remote  from  sanity  of  feeling,  than  that  of 
Goethe's  novel,  but  the  sadness  of  the  hero  is  more  mag- 
nificently posed.  A  sprightly  English  lady  described 
Chateaubriand  as  "wearing  his  heart  in  a  sling";  he 
did  so  during  his  whole  life ;  and  through  Rene  we 
divine  the  inventor  of  Ren6  carrying  his  wounded  heart, 
as  in  the  heroine  we  can  discern  some  features  of  his 
sister  Lucile.  In  all  his  writings  his  feelings  centre  in 
himself :  he  is  a  pure  egoist  through  his  sensibility  ;  but 


CHATEAUBRIAND  3  5  I 

around  his  own  figure  his  imagination,  marvellous  in  its 
expansive  power,  can  deploy  boundless  perspectives. 

Both  Atala  and  Rene,  though  brought  into  connection 
with  the  Genie  du  Christianisme,  are  in  fact  more  closely 
related  to  the  prose  epic  Les  Natchez,  written  early,  but 
held  in  reserve  until  the  publication  of  his  collected  works 
in  1826-31.  Les  Natchez,  inspired  by  Chateaubriand's 
American  travels,  idealises  the  life  of  the  Red  Indian 
tribes.  The  later  books,  where  he  escapes  from  the 
pseudo-epic  manner,  have  in  them  the  finest  spirit  of 
his  early  years,  his  splendour  and  delicacy  of  descrip- 
tion, his  wealth  of  imaginative  reverie.  Famous  as  the 
author  of  the  Genie,  Chateaubriand  was  appointed  secre- 
tary to  the  embassy  at  Rome.  The  murder  of  the  Due 
d'Enghien  alienated  him  from  Napoleon.  Putting  aside 
the  Martyrs,  on  which  he  had  been  engaged,  he  sought 
for  fresh  imagery  and  local  colour  to  enrich  his  work, 
in  a  pilgrimage  to  Jerusalem,  a  record  of  which  was 
published  in  his  (1811)  Itincraire  de  Paris  a  Jerusalem. 

The  Martyrs  appeared  in  1809.  It  was  designed  as  a 
great  example  of  that  art,  inspired  by  Christianity,  on 
behalf  of  which  he  had  contended  in  the  Genie;  the 
religion  of  Christ,  he  would  prove,  can  create  passions 
and  types  of  character  better  suited  for  noble  imagina- 
tive treatment  than  those  of  paganism  ;  its  supernatural 
marvels  are  more  than  a  compensation  for  the  loss  of 
pagan  mythology.  The  time  chosen  for  his  epopee  in 
prose  is  the  reign  of  the  persecutor  Diocletian  ;  Rome 
and  the  provinces  of  the  Empire,  Gaul,  Egypt,  the 
deserts  of  the  Thebaid,  Jerusalem,  Sparta,  Athens,  form 
only  portions  of  the  scene  ;  heaven  and  hell  are  open 
to  the  reader,  but  Chateaubriand,  whose  faith  was  rather 
a  sentiment  than  a  passion,  does  not  succeed  in  making 


352  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

his  supernatural  habitations  and  personages  credible 
even  to  the  fancy.  Far  more  admirable  are  many  of 
the  terrestrial  scenes  and  narrations,  and  among  these, 
in  particular  the  story  of  Eudore. 

In  the  course  of  the  travels  which  led  him  to  Jerusalem, 
Chateaubriand  had  visited  Spain,  and  it  was  his  recollec- 
tions of  the  Alhambra  that  moved  him  to  write,  about 
1809,  the  Aventures  du  Dernier  des  Abencerages,  published 
many  years  later.  It  shows  a  tendency  towards  self- 
restraint,  excellent  in  itself,  but  not  entirely  in  har- 
mony with  his  effusive  imagination.  With  this  work 
Chateaubriand's  inventive  period  of  authorship  closed  ; 
the  rest  of  his  life  was  in  the  main  that  of  a  politician. 
From  the  position  of  an  unqualified  royalist  (1814-24) 
he  advanced  to  that  of  a  liberal,  and  after  1830  may 
be  described  as  both  royalist  and  republican.  His 
pamphlet  of  1814,  De  Bonaparte  et  des  Bourbons,  was 
declared  by  Louis  XVIII.  to  be  worth  an  army  to  his 
cause. 

In  his  later  years  he  published  an  Essai  sur  la  Lit- 
terature  Anglaise  and  a  translation  of  "  Paradise  Lost." 
But  his  chief  task  was  the  revision  of  the  Mcmoires 
d' Outre- Tombe,  an  autobiography  designed  for  posthu- 
mous publication,  and  actually  issued  in  the  pages  of 
the  Presse,  through  the  indiscreet  haste  of  the  publishers, 
while  Chateaubriand  was  still  living.  Its  egotism,  its 
vanity,  its  malicious  wit,  its  fierce  reprisals  on  those 
whom  the  writer  regarded  as  his  enemies,  its  many 
beauties,  its  brilliance  of  style,  make  it  an  exposure  of 
all  that  was  worst  and  much  of  what  was  best  in  his 
character  and  genius.  Tended  by  his  old  friend  Mme. 
Recamier,  to  whom,  if  to  any  one,  he  was  sincerely 
attached,  Chateaubriand  died  in  the  summer  of  1848. 


CHATEAUBRIAND'S  INFLUENCE     353 

His  tomb  is  on  the  rocky  islet  of  Grand-Be,  off  the  coast 
of  Brittany. 

Chateaubriand  cannot  be  loved,  and  his  character 
cannot  be  admired  without  grave  reserves.  But  an 
unique  genius,  developed  at  a  fortunate  time,  enabled 
him  to  play  a  most  significant  part  in  the  history  of 
literature.  He  was  the  greatest  of  landscape  painters  ; 
he  restored  to  art  the  sentiment  of  religion  ;  he  inter- 
preted the  romantic  melancholy  of  the  age.  If  he  posed 
magnificently,  there  were  native  impulses  which  sug- 
gested the  pose ;  and  at  times,  as  in  the  Itineraire,  the 
pose  is  entirely  forgotten.  His  range  of  ideas  is  not 
extraordinary;  but  vision,  imagination,  and  the  passion 
which  makes  the  imaginative  power  its  instrument,  were 
his  in  a  supereminent  degree. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  CONFLICT  OF  IDEAS 

WHILE  the  imagination  of  France  was  turning  towards 
the  romance^of  the  Middle  Ages  and  the  art  of  Chris- 
tianity, Hellenic  scholarship  was  maintained  by  Jean- 
Francois  Boissonade.  The  representative  of  Hellenism 
in  modern  letters  was  Courier,  a  brave  but  undisciplined 
artillery  officer  under  Napoleon,  who  loved  the  sight  of 
a  Greek  manuscript  better  than  he  loved  a  victory.  PAUL- 
Louis  COURIER  DE  MERE  (1772-1825)  counts  for  nothing 
in  the  history  of  French  thought ;  in  the  history  of  French 
letters  his  pamphlets  remain  as  masterpieces  of  Attic 
grace,  luminous,  light  and  bright  in  narrative,  easy  in 
dialogue,  of  the  finest  irony  in  comment,  impeccable 
in  measure  and  in  malice.  The  translator  of  Daphnis 
and  Chloe,  wearied  by  war  and  wanderings  in  Italy, 
lived  under  the  Restoration  among  his  vines  at  Veretz, 
in  Touraine.  In  1816  he  became  the  advocate  of  pro- 
vincial popular  rights  against  the  vexations  of  the  Royalist 
reaction.  He  is  a  vine-dresser,  a  rustic  bourgeois,  oc- 
cupied with  affairs  of  the  parish.  Shall  Chambord  be 
purchased  for  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  ?  shall  an  in- 
tolerant young  cure  forbid  the  villagers  to  dance  ?  shall 
magistrates  harass  the  humble  folk  ?  Such  are  the  ques- 
tions agitating  the  country-side,  which  the  vine-dresser 
Courier  will  resolve.  The  questions  have  been  replaced 


354 


THEOCRATIC  SCHOOL:    MAISTRE         355 

to-day  by  others ;  but  nothing  has  quite  replaced  the 
Simple  Discours,  the  Petition  pour  les  Villageois,  the 
Pamphlet  des  Pamphlets,  in  which  the  ease  of  the  best 
sixteenth  and  seventeenth  century  prose  is  united  with 
a  deft  rapier-play  like  that  of  Voltaire,  and  with  the 
lucidity  of  the  writer's  classical  models. 

Chateaubriand's  artistic  and  sentimental  Catholicism 
was  the  satisfaction  of  imaginative  cravings.  When 
JOSEPH  DE  MAISTRE  (1753-1821)  revolted  against  the 
eighteenth  century,  it  was  a  revolt  of  the  soul  ;  when 
he  assailed  the  authority  of  the  individual-reason,  it  was 
in  the  name  of  a  higher  reason.  Son  of  the  President  of 
the  Senate  of  Savoy,  he  saw  his  country  invaded  by  the 
French  Republican  soldiery  in  1792,  and  he  retired  to 
Lausanne.  He  protested  against  the  Revolutionary 
aggression  in  his  Lettres  d'un  Royaliste  Savoisien ;  in- 
spired by  the  mystical  Saint-Martin,  in  his  Considerations 
sur  la  France,  he  interpreted  the  meaning  of  the  great 
political  cataclysm  as  the  Divine  judgment  upon  France 
- — assigned  by  God  the  place  of  the  leader  of  Christendom, 
the  eldest  daughter  of  the  Church — for  her  faithlessness 
and  proud  self-will.  The  sacred  chastisement  accom- 
plished, monarchy  and  Catholicism  must  be  restored  to 
an  intact  and  regenerated  country.  During  fifteen  years 
Maistre  served  the  King  of  Sardinia  as  envoy  and  pleni- 
potentiary at  the  Russian  Court,  maintaining  his  dignity 
in  cruel  distress  upon  the  salary  of  a  clerk.  Amiable  in 
his  private  life,  he  was  remorseless — with  the  stern  charity 
of  an  inquisitor — in  dogma.  In  a  style  of  extraordinary 
clearness  and  force  he  expounded  a  system  of  ideas, 
logically  connected,  on  which  to  base  a  complete  re- 
organisation of  European  society.  Those  ideas  are  set 
forth  most  powerfully  in  the  dialogues  entitled  Les  Soirees 


356  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

de  Saint- Pttersbourg  and  the  treatises  Du  Pape  and  De 
PEglise  Gallicane. 

He  honours  reason  ;  not  the  individual  reason,  source 
of  innumerable  errors,  but  the  general  reason,  which, 
emanating  from  God,  reveals  universal  and  immutable 
truth  —  quod  semper,  quod  ubique,  quod  ab  omnibus.  To 
commence  philosophising  we  should  despise  the  philo- 
sophers. Of  these,  Bacon,  to  whose  errors  Maistre  de- 
votes a  special  study,  is  the  most  dangerous ;  Locke  is 
the  most  contemptible.  The  eighteenth  century  spoke 
of  nature  ;  Maistre  speaks  of  God,  the  Grand  Monarch 
who  rules  His  worlds  by  laws  which  are  flexible  in  His 
hands.  To  punish  is  the  prime  duty  of  authority ;  the 
great  Justiciary  avenges  Himself  on  the  whole  offending 
race  of  men  ;  there  is  no  government  without  an  exe- 
cutioner. But  God  is  pitiful,  and  allows  us  the  refuge 
of  prayer  and  sacrifice.  Without  religion  there  is  no 
society ;  without  the  Catholic  Church  there  is  no  reli- 
gion ;  without  the  sovereign  Pontiff  there  is  no  Catholic 
Church.  The  sovereignty  of  the  Pope  is  therefore  the 
keystone  of  civilisation  ;  his  it  is  to  give  and  take  away 
the  crowns  of  kings.  Governments  absolute  over  the 
people,  the  Pontiff  absolute  over  governments — such 
is  the  earthly  reflection  of  the  Divine  monarchy  in 
heaven.  To  suppose  that  men  can  begin  the  world 
anew  from  a  Revolutionary  year  One,  is  the  folly  of 
private  reason ;  society  is  an  organism  which  grows 
under  providential  laws  ;  revolutions  are  the  expiation 
for  sins.  Such  are  the  ideas  which  Maistre  bound 
together  in  serried  logic,  and  deployed  with  the  mas- 
tery of  an  intellectual  tactician.  The  recoil  from  in- 
dividualism to  authority  could  not  have  found  a  more 
absolute  expression. 


LAMENNAIS  357 

The  Vicomte  de  Bonald  (1754-1840),  whose  theocratic 
views  have  much  in  common  with  those  of  Maistre,  and 
of  his  teacher  Saint  -  Martin,  dwelt  on  the  necessity 
of  language  as  a  condition  of  thought,  and  maintained 
that  language  is  of  divine  origin.  Ballanche  (1776- 
1847),  ha^  poet,  half  philosopher,  connected  theocratic 
ideas  with  a  theory  of  human  progress  —  a  social  and 
political  palingenesis — which  had  in  it  the  elements  of 
political  liberalism.  Theocracy  and  liberalism  met  in 
the  genius  of  FELiciTE-RoBERT  DE  LAMENNAIS  (1782- 
1854)  ;  they  engaged  after  a  time  in  conflict,  and  in 
the  end  the  victory  lay  with  his  democratic  sympathies. 
A  Breton  and  a  priest,  Lamennais,  endowed  with  ima- 
gination, passion,  and  eloquence,  was  more  a  prophet 
than  a  priest.  He  saw  the  world  around  him  perishing 
through  lack  of  faith  ;  religion  alone  could  give  it  life 
and  health  ;  a  Church,  freed  from  political  shackles, 
in  harmony  with  popular  tendencies,  governed  by  the 
sovereign  Pontiff,  might  animate  the  world  anew.  The 
voice  of  the  Catholic  Church  is  the  voice  of  humanity, 
uttering  the  general  reason  of  mankind.  When  the 
Essai  sur  I' Indifference  en  Matiere  de  Religion  appeared, 
another  Bossuet  seemed  to  have  arisen.  But  was  a 
democratic  Catholicism  possible  ?  Lamennais  trusted 
that  it  might  be  so,  and  as  the  motto  of  the  journal 
L  Avenir  (1830),  in  which  Lacordaire  and  Montalembert 
were  his  fellow-labourers,  he  chose  the  words  Dieu  et 
Liberte. 

The  orthodoxy  of  the  Avenir  was  suspected.  Lamen- 
nais, with  his  friends,  journeyed  to  Rome  "to  consult 
the  Lord  in  Shiloh,"  and  in  the  Affaires  de  Rome  recorded 
his  experiences.  The  Encyclical  of  1832  pronounced 
against  the  doctrines  dearest  to  his  heart  and  conscience  ; 


358  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

he  bowed  in  submission,  yet  he  could  not  abandon  his 
inmost  convictions.  His  hopes  for  a  democratic  theo- 
cracy failing,  he  still  trusted  in  the  peoples.  But  the 
democracy  of  his  desire  and  faith  was  one  not  devoted 
to  material  interests;  to  spiritualise  the  democracy  be- 
came henceforth  his  aim.  In  the  Paroles  d'uu  Croyant  he 
announced  in  rhythmical  prose  his  apocalyptic  visions. 
"  It  is,"  said  a  contemporary,  "a  bonnet  rouge  planted  on 
a  cross."  In  his  elder  years  Lamennais  believed  in  a 
spiritual  power,  a  common  thought,  a  common  will  direct- 
ing society,  as  the  soul  directs  the  body,  but,  like  the  soul, 
invisible.  His  metaphysics,  in  which  it  is  attempted  to 
give  a  scientific  interpretation  and  application  to  the 
doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  are  set  forth  in  the  Esquisse  dune 
Philosophic.  His  former  associates,  Lacordaire,  the  elo- 
quent Dominican,  and  Montalembert,  the  historian, 
learned  and  romantic,  of  Western  monasticism,  remained 
faithful  children  of  the  Church.  Lamennais,  no  less 
devout  in  spirit  than  they,  died  insubmissive,  and  above 
his  grave,  among  the  poor  of  Pere-Lachaise,  no  cross  was 
erected. 

The  antagonism  to  eighteenth-century  thought  assumed 
other  forms  than  those  of  the  theocratic  school.  VICTOR 
COUSIN  (1792-1867),  a  pupil  of  Maine  de  Biran  and 
Royer-Collard,  became  at  the  age  of  twenty-three  a 
lecturer  on  philosophy  at  the  Sorbonne.  He  was  enthu- 
siastic, ambitious,  eloquent ;  with  scanty  knowledge  he 
spoke  as  one  having  authority,  and  impressed  his  hearers 
with  the  force  of  a  ruling  personality.  Led  on  from 
Scotch  to  German  philosophy,  and  having  the  advantage 
of  personal  acquaintance  with  Hegel,  he  advanced 
through  psychology  to  metaphysics.  Not  in  the  senses 
but  in  the  reason,  impersonal  in  its  spontaneous  activity, 


ECLECTIC  SCHOOL:    SOCIALISM  359 

he  recognised  the  source  of  absolute  truth  ;  in  the  first 
act  of  consciousness  are  disclosed  the  finite,  the  infinite, 
and  their  mutual  relations.  In  the  history  of  philosophy, 
in  its  four  great  systems  of  sensationalism,  idealism, 
scepticism,  mysticism,  he  recognised  the  substance  of 
philosophy  itself  undergoing  the  process  of  evolution  : 
each  system  is  true  in  what  it  affirms,  false  in  what  it 
denies.  With  psychology  as  a  starting-point,  and  eclec- 
ticism as  a  method,  Cousin  attempted  to  establish  a 
spiritualist  doctrine.  A  young  leader  in  the  domain  of 
thought,  he  became  at  a  later  time  too  imperious  a  ruler. 
In  the  writings  of  his  disciple  and  friend  THEODORE 
JOUFFROY  (1796-1842)  there  is  a  deeper  accent  of  reality. 
Doubting,  and  contending  with  his  doubts,  Jouffroy 
brooded  upon  the  destiny  of  man,  made  inquisition  into 
the  problems  of  psychology,  refusing  to  identify  mental 
science  with  physiology,  and  applied  his  remarkable 
powers  of  patient  and  searching  thought  to  the  solution 
of  questions  in  morals  and  aesthetics.  The  school  of 
Cousin  has  been  named  eclectic  ;  it  should  rather  be 
named  spiritualist.  The  tendencies  to  which  it  owed  its 
origin  extended  beyond  philosophy,  and  are  apparent 
in  the  literary  art  of  Cousin's  contemporaries. 

As  a  basis  for  social  reconstruction  the  spiritualist 
philosophy  was  ineffectual.  Another  school  of  thought 
issuing  from  the  Revolution,  yet  opposing  ts  anarchic  in- 
dividualism, aspired  to  regenerate  society  by  the  applica- 
tion of  the  principles  of  positive  science.  CLAUDE-HENRI 
DE  SAINT-SIMON  (1760-1825),  and  FRANCOIS-CHARLES 
FOURIER  (1772-1837),  differing  in  many  of  their  opinions, 
have  a  common  distinction  as  the  founders  of  modern 
socialism.  Saint-Simon's  ideal  was  that  of  a  State  con- 
trolled in  things  of  the  mind  by  men  of  science,  and  in 
24 


360  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

material  affairs  by  the  captains  of  industry.  The  aim  of 
society  should  be  the  exploitation  of  the  globe  by  associa- 
tive effort.  In  his  Nouveau  Christianisme  he  thought  to 
deliver  the  Christian  religion  from  the  outworn  supersti- 
tion, as  he  regarded  it,  alike  of  Catholicism  and  Pro- 
testantism, and  to  point  out  its  true  principle  as  adapted 
to  our  nineteenth  century — that  of  human  charity,  the 
united  effort  of  men  towards  the  well-being  of  the 
poorest  class. 

Saint-Simon,  fantastic,  incoherent,  deficient  in  the 
scientific  spirit  and  in  the  power  of  co-ordinating  his 
results,  yet  struck  out  suggestive  ideas.  A  great  and  sys- 
tematic thinker,  AUGUSTE  COMTE  (1798-1857),  who  was 
associated  with  Saint-Simon  from  1817  to  1824,  perceived 
the  significance  of  these  ideas,  and  was  urged  forward  by 
them  to  researches  properly  his  own.  The  positivism  of 
Conite  consists  of  a  philosophy  and  a  polity,  in  which  a 
religion  is  involved.  The  quickening  of  his  emotional 
nature  through  an  adoring  friendship  with  Mme.  Clotilde 
de  Vaux,  made  him  sensible  of  the  incompleteness  of  his 
earlier  efforts  at  an  intellectual  reconstruction  ;  he  felt 
the  need  of  worship  and  of  love.  Comte's  philosophy 
proceeds  from  the  theory  that  all  human  conceptions 
advance  from  the  primitive  theological  state,  through 
the  metaphysical — when  abstract  forces,  occult  causes, 
scholastic  entities  are  invented  to  explain  the  phenomena 
of  nature — to  the  positive,  when  at  length  it  is  recog- 
nised that  human  knowledge  cannot  pass  beyond  the 
region  of  phenomena.  With  these  stages  corresponds 
the  progress  of  society  from  militarism,  aggressive  or 
defensive,  to  industrialism.  The  several  abstract  sciences 
— those  dealing  with  the  laws  of  phenomena  rather  than 
with  the  application  of  laws — are  so  arranged  by  Comte 


POSITIVISM  361 

as  to  exhibit  each  more  complex  science  resting  on  a 
simpler,  to  which  it  adds  a  new  order  of  truths  ;  the 
whole  erection,  ascending  to  the  science  of  sociology, 
which  includes  a  dynamical  as  well  as  a  statical  doctrine 
of  human  society — a  doctrine  of  the  laws  of  progress  as 
well  as  of  the  laws  of  order — is  crowned  by  morals. 

In  the  polity  of  positivism  the  supreme  spiritual  power 
is  entrusted  to  a  priesthood  of  science.  Their  moral 
influence  will  be  chiefly  directed  to  reinforcing  the  social 
feeling,  altruism,  as  against  the  predominance  of  self-love. 
The  object  of  religious  reverence  is  not  God,  but  the 
"Great  Being" — Humanity,  the  society  of  the  noble  living 
and  the  noble  dead,  the  company,  or  rather  the  unity, 
of  all  those  who  contribute  to  the  better  life  of  man. 
To  Humanity  we  pay  our  vows,  we  yield  our  gratitude, 
we  render  our  homage,  we  direct  our  aspirations ;  for 
Humanity  we  act  and  live  in  the  blessed  subordination 
of  egoistic  desire.  Women — the  mother,  the  wife,  the 
daughter  —  purifying  through  affection  the  energies  of 
man,  act,  under  the  Great  Being,  as  angelic  guardians, 
accomplishing  a  moral  providence. 

Comte's  theory  of  the  three  states,  theological,  meta- 
physical, and  positive,  was  accepted  by  PIERRE  JOSEPH 
PROUDHON  (1809-65),  a  far  more  brilliant  writer,  a 
far  less  constructive  thinker,  and  aided  him  in  arriving 
at  conclusions  which  differ  widely  from  those  of  Comte. 
Son  of  a  cooper  at  Besan^on,  Proudhon  had  the  virtues 
of  a  true  child  of  the  people — integrity,  affection,  courage, 
zeal,  untiring  energy.  Religion  he  would  replace  by 
morality,  ardent,  strict,  and  pure.  Free  associations  of 
workmen,  subject  to  no  spiritual  or  temporal  authority, 
should  arise  over  all  the  land.  Qu'est-ce  que  la  Propriety? 
he  asked  in  the  title  of  a  work  published  in  1840;  and 


362  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

his  answer  was,  La  Propriete  c'est  le  Vol.  Property,  seiz- 
ing upon  the  products  of  labour  in  the  form  of  rent  or 
interest,  and  rendering  no  equivalent,  is  theft.  Justice 
demands  that  service  should  be  repaid  by  an  equal  ser- 
vice. Society,  freely  organising  itself  on  the  principles 
of  liberty  and  justice,  requires  no  government ;  only 
through  such  anarchy  as  this  can  true  order  be  at- 
tained. An  apostle  of  modern  communism,  Proudhon, 
by  ideas  leavening  the  popular  mind,  became  no  in- 
significant influence  in  practical  politics. 


CHAPTER    III 

POETRY   OF   THE   ROMANTIC  SCHOOL 

I 

THE  eighteenth  century  did  homage  to  the  reason;  it 
sought  for  general  truths,  scientific,  social,  political ;  its 
art  was  in  the  main  an  inheritance,  diminished  with  lapse 
of  time,  from  the  classical  art  of  the  preceding  century. 
With  Rousseau  came  an  outburst  of  the  personal  element 
in  literature,  an  overflow  of  sensibility,  an  enfranchise- 
ment of  the  passions,  and  of  imagination  as  connected 
with  the  passions  ;  his  eloquence  has  in  it  the  lyrical 
note.  The  romantic  movement  was  an  assertion  of 
freedom  for  the  imagination,  and  an  assertion  of  the 
rights  of  individuality.  Love,  wonder,  hope,  measure- 
less desire,  strange  fears,  infinite  sadness,  the  sentiment 
of  nature,  aspiration  towards  God,  were  born  anew. 
Imagination,  claiming  authority,  refused  to  submit  to 
the  rules  of  classic  art.  Why  should  the  several  literary 
species  be  impounded  each  in  its  separate  paddock  ? 
Let  them  mingle  at  the  pleasure  of  the  artist's  genius ; 
let  the  epic  and  the  drama  catch  what  they  can  of  the 
lyric  cry  ;  let  tragedy  and  comedy  meet  and  mix.  Why 
remain  in  servitude  to  the  models  of  Greece  and  Rome  ? 
Let  all  epochs  and  every  clime  contribute  to  the  enrich- 
ment of  art.  The  primitive  age  was  above  all  others  the 

363 


364  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

age  of  poetry.  The  great  Christian  centuries  were  the 
centuries  of  miracle  and  marvel,  of  spiritual  exaltation 
and  transcendent  passion.  Honour,  therefore,  to  our 
mediaeval  forefathers  !  It  is  the  part  of  reason  to  trust 
the  imagination  in  the  imaginative  sphere.  Through 
what  is  most  personal  and  intimate  we  reach  the  truths 
of  the  universal  heart  of  man.  An  image  may  at  the  same 
time  be  a  symbol ;  behind  a  historical  tableau  may  lie  a 
philosophical  idea. 

At  first  the  romantic  movement  was  Christian  and 
monarchical.  Its  assertion  of  freedom,  its  claims  on 
behalf  of  the  ego,  its  licence  of  the  imagination,  were 
in  reality  revolutionary.  The  intellect  is  more  aristo- 
cratic than  the  passions.  The  great  spectacle  of  modern 
democracy  deploying  its  forces  is  more  moving  than  any 
pallid  ideals  of  the  past ;  it  has  the  grandeur  and  breadth 
of  the  large  phenomena  of  nature  ;  it  is  wide  as  a  sun- 
rise ;  its  advance  is  as  the  onset  of  the  sea,  and  has  like 
rumours  of  victory  and  defeat.  The  romantic  move- 
ment, with  no  infidelity  to  its  central  principle,  became 
modern  and  democratic. 

Foreign  life  and  literatures  lent  their  aid  to  the  roman- 
tic movement  in  France — the  passion  and  mystery  of  the 
East;  the  struggle  for  freedom  in  Greece;  the  old  ballads 
of  Spain;  the  mists,  the  solitudes,  the  young  heroes,  the 
pallid  female  forms  of  Ossian;  the  feudal  splendours  of 
Scott;  the  melancholy  Harold;  the  mysterious  Manfred  ; 
Goethe's  champion  of  freedom,  his  victim  of  sensibility, 
his  seeker  for  the  fountains  of  living  knowledge  ;  Schiller's 
revolters  against  social  law,  and  his  adventurers  of  the 
court  and  camp. 

With  the  renewal  of  imagination  and  sentiment  came 
a  renewal  of  language  and  of  metre.  The  poetical 


POETIC  DICTION:    ROMANTIC  VERSE      365 

diction  of  the  eighteenth  century  had  grown  colourless 
and  abstract ;  general  terms  had  been  preferred  to  parti- 
cular ;  simple,  direct,  and  vivid  words  had  been  replaced 
by  periphrases — the  cock  was  "the  domestic  bird  that 
announces  the  day."  The  romantic  poets  sought  for 
words — whether  noble  or  vulgar — that  were  coloured, 
concrete,  picturesque.  The  tendency  culminated  with 
Gautier,  to  whom  words  were  valuable,  like  gems,  for 
their  gleam,  their  iridescence,  and  their  hardness.  Lost 
treasures  of  the  language  were  recovered ;  at  a  later 
date  new  verbal  inventions  were  made.  By  degrees,  also, 
grammatical  structure  lost  some  of  its  rigidity ;  sentences 
and  periods  grew  rather  than  were  built  ;  phrases  were 
alive,  and  learnt,  if  there  were  a  need,  to  leap  and  bound. 
Verse  was  moulded  by  the  feeling  that  inspired  it ;  the 
melodies  were  like  those  of  an  Eolian  harp,  long-drawn 
or  retracted  as  the  wind  swept  or  touched  the  strings. 
Symmetry  was  slighted  ;  harmony  was  valued  for  its 
own  sake  and  for  its  spiritual  significance.  Rich  rhymes 
satisfied  or  surprised  the  ear,  and  the  poet  sometimes 
suffered  through  his  curiosity  as  a  virtuoso.  By  internal 
licences — the  mobile  cesura,  new  variations  and  com- 
binations—  the  power  of  the  alexandrine  was  marvel- 
lously enlarged  ;  it  lost  its  monotony  and  became 
capable  of  every  achievement ;  its  external  restraints 
were  lightened  ;  verse  glided  into  verse  as  wave  over- 
taking wave.  The  accomplishment  of  these  changes 
was  a  gradual  process,  of  which  Hugo  and  Sainte-Beuve 
were  the  chief  initiators.  Gautier  and,  in  his  elder  years, 
Hugo  contributed  to  the  later  evolution  of  romantic 
verse.  The  influence  on  poetical  form  of  Lamartine, 
Vigny,  Musset,  was  of  minor  importance. 

The  year  1822  is  memorable  ;  it  saw  the  appearance 


366  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

of  Vigny's  Poemes,  the  Odes  of  Hugo,  which  announced 
a  new  power  in  literature,  though  the  direction  of  that 
power  was  not  yet  defined,  and  almost  to  the  same 
moment  belongs  the  indictment  of  classical  literature 
by  Henri  Beyle  ("  Stendhal ")  in  his  study  entitled 
Racine  ct  Shakespeare.  Around  Charles  Nodier,  in  the 
library  of  the  Arsenal,  gathered  the  young  revolters— 
among  them  Vigny,  tSainte-Beuve,  Emile  Deschamps, 
afterwards  the  translator  of  Romeo  and  Juliet  and  Mac- 
beth, his  brother  Antony,  afterwards  the  translator  of  the 
Divine  Comedy.  The  first  Cenacle  was  formed  ;  in  the 
Muse  Franqaise  and  in  the  Globe  the  principles  of  the 
new  literary  school  were  expounded  and  illustrated. 
Victor  Hugo  looked  on  with  friendly  intentions,  but 
still  held  aloof. 

JEAN-PIERRE  DE   BERANGER  (1780-1857)  was   not  One 

of  this  company  of  poets.  A  child  of  Paris,  of  humble 
parentage,  he  discovered,  after  various  experiments,  that 
his  part  was  not  that  of  a  singer  of  large  ambitions.  In 
1815  his  first  collection  of  Chansons  appeared  ;  the  fourth 
appeared  in  1833.  Standing  between  the  bourgeoisie  and 
the  people,  he  mediated  between  the  popular  and  the 
middle-class  sentiment.  His  songs  flew  like  town  spar- 
rows from  garret  to  garden  ;  impudent  or  discreet,  they 
nested  everywhere.  They  seemed  to  be  the  embodied 
wisdom  of  good  sense,  good  temper,  easy  morals,  love 
without  its  ardours,  poverty  without  its  pains,  patriotism 
without  its  fatigues,  a  religion  on  familiar  terms  with  the 
Dieu  des  bonnes  gens.  In  his  elder  years  a  Beranger 
legend  had  evolved  itself ;  he  was  the  sage  of  democracy, 
the  Socrates  of  the  people,  the  patriarch  to  whom  pil- 
grims travelled  to  receive  the  oracles  of  liberal  and 
benevolent  philosophy.  Notwithstanding  his  faults  in 


BERANGER:    LAMARTINE  367 

the  pseudo-classic  taste,  Beranger  was  skilled  in  the  art 
of  popular  song  ;  he  knew-  the  virtue  of  concision  ;  he 
knew  how  to  evolve  swiftly  his  little  lyric  drama ;  he  knew 
how  to  wing  his  verses  with  a  volent  refrain  ;  he  could 
catch  the  sentiment  of  the  moment  and  of  the  multitude  ; 
he  could  be  gay  with  touches  of  tenderness,  and  smile 
through  a  tear  reminiscent  of  departed  youth  and  plea- 
sure and  Lisette.  For  the  good  bourgeois  he  was  a  liberal 
in  politics  and  religion  ;  for  the  people  he  was  a  democrat 
who  hated  the  Restoration,  loved  equality  more  than 
liberty,  and  glorified  the  legendary  Napoleon,  repre- 
sentative of  democratic  absolutism.  In  the  history  of 
politics  the  songs  of  Beranger  count  for  much ;  in  the 
history  of  literature  the  poet  has  a  little  niche  of  his 
own,  with  which  one  may  be  content  who,  if  he  had  not 
in  elder  years  supposed  himself  the  champion  of  a  literary 
revolution,  might  be  called  modest. 


II 

Among  the  members  of  the  Cenacle  was  to  be  seen  a 
poet  already  famous,  their  elder  by  several  years,  who 
might  have  been  the  master  of  a  school  had  he  not 
preferred  to  dwell  apart ;  one  who,  born  for  poetry, 
chose  to  look  on  verse  as  no  more  than  an  accident  of 
his  existence.  In  the  year  1820  had  appeared  a  slender 
volume  entitled  Meditations  Poctiques.  The  soul,  long 
departed,  returned  in  this  volume  to  French  poetry. 
Its  publication  was  an  event  hardly  less  important  than 
that  of  the  Genie  du  Christianismc.  The  well-springs  of 
pure  inspiration  once  more  flowed.  The  critics,  indeed, 
were  not  all  enthusiastic ;  the  public,  with  a  surer  instinct, 


368  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

recognised  in  Lamartine  the  singer  they  had  for  many 
years  desired,  and  despaired  to  find. 

ALPHONSE  DE  LAMARTINE,  born  at  Macon  in  1790,  of 
royalist  parents,  had  passed  his  childhood  among  the 
tranquil  fields  and  little  hills  around  his  homestead  at 
Milly.  From  his  mother  he  learned  to  love  the  Bible, 
Tasso,  Bernardin,  and  a  christianised  version  of  the 
Savoyard  Vicar's  faith  ;  at  a  later  time  he  read  Chateau- 
briand, Rousseau,  Milton,  Byron,  and  was  enchanted  by 
the  wandering  gleams  and  glooms  of  Ossian.  From 
the  melancholy  of  youth  he  was  roused  by  Italian  travel, 
and  by  that  Italian  love  romance  of  Graziella,  the  cir- 
cumstances of  which  he  has  dignified  for  the  uses  of 
idealised  autobiography.  A  deeper  passion  of  love  and 
grief  followed;  Madame  Charles,  the  "Julie"  of  Lamar- 
tine's  Raphael,  the  "  Elvire "  of  his  Meditations,  died. 
Lamartine  had  versified  already  in  a  manner  which  has 
affinities  with  that  of  those  eighteenth-century  poets 
and  elegiac  singers  of  the  Empire  whom  he  was  to 
banish  from  public  regard.  Love  and  grief  evoked  finer 
and  purer  strains  ;  his  deepest  feelings  flowed  into  verse 
with  perfect  sincerity  and  perfect  spontaneity.  Without 
an  effort  of  the  will  he  had  become  the  most  illustrious 
poet  of  France. 

Lamartine  had  held  and  had  resigned  a  soldiers  post 
in  the  body-guard  of  Louis  XVIII.  He  now  accepted 
the  position  of  attache  to  the  embassy  at  Naples  ;  pub- 
lished in  1823  his  Nouvelles  Meditations,  and  two  years 
later  Le  Dernier  Chant  du  Pelerinage  d' Harold  (Byron's 
Childe  Harold) ;  after  which  followed  a  long  silence. 
Secretary  in  1824  to  the  legation  at  Florence,  he  aban- 
doned after  a  time  the  diplomatic  career,  and  on  the 
eve  of  the  Revolution  of  July  (1830)  appeared  again  as  a 


LAMARTINE  369 

poet  in  his  Harmonies  Poetiques  et  Religieuses ;  travelled 
in  the  East  in  company  with  his  wife,  and  recorded 
his  impressions  in  the  Voyage  en  Orient ;  entered  into 
political  life,  at  first  a  solitary  in  politics  as  he  had  been 
in  literature,  but  by  degrees  finding  himself  drawn  more 
and  more  towards  democratic  ideas.  "  Where  will  you 
sit  ?"  he  was  asked  on  his  presentation  in  the  Chamber. 
His  smiling  reply,  "On  the  ceiling,"  was  symbolical  of 
the  fact;  but  from  "the  ceiling"  his  exalted  oratory, 
generous  in  temper,  sometimes  wise  and  well  informed, 
descended  with  influence.  Jocelyn  (1836),  La  Chute  dun 
Ange  (1838),  the  Recueillements  Poetiques  (1839),  closed 
the  series  of  his  poetical  wrorks,  though  he  did  not  wholly 
cease  from  song. 

In  1847  Lamartine's  idealising  Histoire  des  Girondins, 
brilliant  in  its  romantic  portraiture,  had  the  importance 
of  a  political  event.  The  Revolution  of  February  placed 
him  for  a  little  time  at  the  head  of  affairs  ;  as  he  had 
been  the  soul  of  French  poetry,  so  for  a  brief  hour 
he  was  the  soul  of  the  political  life  of  France.  With 
the  victory  of  imperialism  Lamartine  retired  into  the 
shade.  He  wras  more  than  sixty  years  of  age ;  he  had 
lost  his  fortune  and  was  burdened  with  debt.  His  elder 
years  were  occupied  with  incessant  improvisations  for 
the  booksellers — histories,  biographies,  tales,  criticism, 
autobiographic  confidences  flowed  from  his  pen.  It  was 
a  gallant  struggle  and  a  sad  one.  Through  the  delicate 
generosity  of  Napoleon  III.  he  was  at  length  relieved 
without  humiliating  concessions.  In  1869  Lamartine 
died  in  his  eightieth  year. 

He  was  a  noble  dreamer  in  practical  affairs,  and  just 
ideas  formed  a  portion  of  his  dreams.  Nature  had  made 
him  an  irreclaimable  optimist ;  all  that  is  base  and  ugly 


370  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

in  life  passed  out  of  view  as  he  soared  above  earth  in  his 
luminous  ether.  Sadness  and  doubt  indeed  he  knew, 
but  his  sadness  had  a  charm  of  its  own,  and  there 
were  consolations  in  maternal  nature,  in  love,  in  reli- 
gious faith  and  adoration.  His  power  of  vision  was  not 
intense  or  keen  ;  his  descriptions  are  commonly  vague 
or  pale  ;  but  no  one  could  mirror  more  faithfully  a  state 
of  feeling  divested  of  all  material  circumstance.  The 
pure  and  ample  harmonies  of  his  verse  do  not  attack 
the  ear,  but  they  penetrate  to  the  soul.  All  the  great 
lyric  themes — God,  nature,  death,  glory,  melancholy, 
solitude,  regret,  desire,  hope,  love — he  interpreted  on 
his  instrument  with  a  musician's  inspiration.  Unhappily 
he  lacked  the  steadfast  force  of  will,  the  inexhaustible 
patience,  which  go  to  make  a  complete  artist ;  he  impro- 
vised admirably ;  he  refused  to  labour  as  a  master  of 
technique  ;  hence  his  diffuseness,  his  negligences  ;  hence 
the  decline  of  his  powers  after  the  first  spontaneous 
inspiration  was  exhausted. 

Lamartine  may  have  equalled  but  he  never  surpassed 
the  best  poems  of  his  earliest  volume.  But  the  elegiac 
singer  aspired  to  be  a  philosophic  poet,  and,  infusing  his 
ideas  into  sentiment  and  narrative,  became  the  author  of 
Jocelyn  and  La  Chute  d'un  Ange.  Recalling  and  idealis- 
ing an  episode  in  the  life  of  his  friend  the  Abbe  Dumont, 
he  tells  how  Jocelyn,  a  child  of  humble  parents — not 
yet  a  priest — takes  shelter  among  the  mountains  from 
the  Revolutionary  terror  ;  how  a  proscribed  youth, 
Laurence,  becomes  his  companion ;  how  Laurence  is 
found  to  be  a  girl ;  how  friendship  passes  into  love  ; 
how,  in  order  that  he  may  receive  the  condemned 
bishop's  last  confession,  Jocelyn  submits  to  become  a 
priest ;  how  the  lovers  part  ;  how  Laurence  wanders 


LAMARTINE  371 

into  piteous  ways  of  passion  ;  how  Jocelyn  attends  her 
in  her  dying  hours,  and  lays  her  body  among  the  hills 
and  streams  of  their  early  love.  It  is  Jocelyn  who 
chronicles  events  and  feelings  in  his  journal  of  joy  and 
of  sorrow.  Lamartine  acknowledges  that  he  had  before 
him  as  a  model  the  idyl  dear  to  him  in  childhood — 
Bernardin's  Paul  et  Virginie. 

The  poem  is  complete  in  itself,  but  it  was  designed 
as  a  fragment  of  that  vast  modern  epopee,  with  humanity 
for  the  hero,  of  which  La  Chute  d'un  Ange  was  another 
fragment.  The  later  poem,  vast  in  dimensions,  fantastic 
in  subject,  negligent  in  style,  is  a  work  of  Lamar- 
tine's  poetic  decline.  We  are  among  the  mountains 
of  Lebanon,  where  dwell  the  descendants  of  Cain. 
The  angel,  enamoured  of  the  maiden  Dai'dha,  becomes 
human.  Through  gigantic  and  incoherent  inventions 
looms  the  idea  of  humanity  which  degrades  itself  by 
subjugation  to  the  senses,  as  in  Jocelyn  we  had  seen 
the  type  of  humanity  which  ascends  by  virtue  of  aspira- 
tions of  the  soul.  It  was  a  poor  jest  to  say  that  the 
title  of  his  poem  La  CJiute  d'un  Ange  described  its 
author.  Lamartine  had  failed  ;  he  could  not  handle  so 
vast  a  subject  with  plastic  power ;  but  in  earlier  years 
he  had  accomplished  enough  to  justify  us  in  disregarding 
a  late  failure — he  had  brought  back  the  soul  to  poetry. 


Ill 

Among  the  romantic  poets  who  made  themselves 
known  between  1820  and  1830,  ALFRED  DE  VIGNY  is 
distinguished  by  the  special  character  of  his  genius, 
and  by  the  fact  that  nothing  in  his  poetry  is  derived 


372  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

from  his  contemporaries.  Lamartine,  Hugo,  and,  at 
a  later  date,  Musset,  found  models  or  suggestions  in 
his  writings.  He,  though  for  a  time  closely  connected 
with  the  romantic  school,  really  stands  apart  and  alone. 
Born  in  1797,  he  followed  the  profession  of  his  father, 
that  of  arms,  and  knew  the  hopes,  the  illusions,  and  the 
disappointments  of  military  service  at  the  time  of  the 
fall  of  the  Empire  and  the  Bourbon  restoration.  He 
read  eagerly  in  Greek  literature,  in  the  Old  Testament, 
and  among  eighteenth-century  philosophers.  As  early 
as  1815  he  wrote  his  admirable  poem  La  Dryade,  in  which, 
before  Andre  Chenier's  verse  had  appeared,  Chenier's 
fresh  and  delicate  feeling  for  antiquity  was  anticipated. 
In  1822  his  first  volume,  Pocmes,  was  published,  includ- 
ing the  Helena,  afterwards  suppressed,  and  groups  of 
pieces  classified  as  Antiques,  Judaiques,  and  Modernes. 
Already  his  Moise,  majestic  in  its  sobriety,  was  written, 
though  it  waited  four  years  for  publication  in  the  volume 
of  Poemes  Antiques  et  Modernes  (1826).  Moses  climbing 
the  slopes  of  Nebo  personifies  the  solitude  and  the  heavy 
burden  of  genius ;  his  one  aspiration  now  is  for  the 
sleep  of  death  ;  and  it  is  the  lesser  leader  Joshua  who 
will  conduct  the  people  into  the  promised  land.  The 
same  volume  included  Eloa,  a  romance  of  love  which 
abandons  joy  through  an  impulse  of  divine  pity  :  the 
radiant  spirit  Eloa,  born  from  a  tear  of  Christ,  resigns 
the  happiness  of  heaven  to  bring  consolation  to  the  great 
lost  angel  suffering  under  the  malediction  of  God.  Other 
pieces  were  inspired  by  Spain,  with  its  southern  violence 
of  passion,  and  by  the  pass  of  Roncesvalles,  with  its 
chivalric  associations. 

The  novel  of  Cinq-Mars,  which  had  a  great  success,  is 
a  free  treatment  of  history ;    but  Vigny's  best  work  is 


ALFRED   DE   VIGNY  373 

rather  the  embodiment  of  ideas  than  the  rendering  of 
historical  matter.  His  Stello  in  its  conception  has  some- 
thing of  kinship  with  Mo'ise ;  in  three  prose  tales  relating 
the  sufferings  of  Chatterton,  Chenier,  and  Gilbert,  it  illus- 
trates the  sorrows  of  the  possessors  of  genius.  Vigny's 
military  experience  suggested  another  group  of  tales,  the 
Servitude  et  Grandeur  Militaires ;  the  soldier  in  accepting 
servitude  finds  his  consolation  in  the  duty  at  all  costs  of 
strenuous  obedience. 

In  1827  Vigny  quitted  the  army,  and  next  year  took 
place  his  marriage — one  not  unhappy,  but  of  imperfect 
sympathy — to  an  English  lady,  Lydia  Bunbury.  His 
interest  in  English  literature  was  shown  by  translations 
of  Othello  and  the  Merchant  of  Venice.  The  former  was 
acted  with  the  applause  of  the  young  romanticists,  who 
worshipped  Shakespeare  ardently  if  not  wisely,  and  who 
bore  the  shock  of  hearing  the  unclassical  word  moucJioir 
valiantly  pronounced  on  the  French  stage.  The  triumph 
of  his  drama  of  Chatterton  (1835)  "was  overwhelming, 
though  its  glory  to-day  seems  in  excess  of  its  deserts. 
Ten  years  later  Vigny  was  admitted  to  the  Academy. 
But  with  the  representation  of  Chatterton,  and  at  the 
moment  of  his  highest  fame,  he  suddenly  ceased  from 
creative  activity.  Never  was  his  mind  more  energetic, 
never  was  his  power  as  an  artist  so  mature  ;  but,  ex- 
cept a  few  wonderful  poems  contributed  to  the  Revue 
des  Deux  Mondes,  and  posthumously  collected,  nothing 
was  given  by  him  to  the  world  from  1835  to  1863,  the 
year  of  his  death. 

He  had  always  been  a  secluded  spirit ;  external  com- 
panionship left  him  inwardly  solitary;  secret — so  Sainte- 
Beuve  puts  it— in  his  "  tower  of  ivory  "  ;  touching  some 
mountain-summit  for  a  moment — so  Dumas  describes 


374  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

him — if  he  folded  his  wings,  as  a  concession  to  humanity. 
A  great  disillusion  of  passion  had  befallen  him  ;  but, 
apart  from  this,  he  must  have  retreated  into  his  own 
sphere  of  ideas  and  of  images,  which  seemed  to  him 
to  be  almost  wronged  by  an  attempt  at  literary  expres- 
sion. He  looked  upon  the  world  with  a  disenchanted 
eye  ;  he  despaired  of  the  possibilities  of  life  for  himself 
and  for  all  men  ;  without  declamation  or  display,  he  re- 
signed himself  to  a  silent  and  stoical  acceptance  of  the 
lot  of  man  ;  but  out  of  this  calm  despair  arose  a  pas- 
sionate pity  for  his  fellows,  a  pity  even  for  things  evil, 
such  as  his  Eloa  felt  for  the  lost  angel.  La  Colere  de 
Samson  gives  majestic  utterance  to  his  despair  of  human 
love  ;  his  Mont  des  Oliviers,  where  Jesus  seeks  God  in 
vain,  and  where  Judas  lurks  near,  expresses  his  religious 
despair.  Nature,  the  benevolent  mother,  says  Vigny,  is 
no  mother,  but  a  tomb.  Yet  he  would  not  clamour 
against  the  heavens  or  the  earth  ;  he  would  meet  death 
silently  when  it  comes,  like  the  dying  wolf  of  his  poem 
(La  Mort  du  Loup),  suffering  but  voiceless.  Wealth  and 
versatility  of  imagination  were  not  Vigny's  gifts.  His 
dominant  ideas  were  few,  but  he  lived  in  them  ;  for 
them  he  found  apt  imagery  or  symbol ;  and  in  verse 
which  has  the  dignity  of  reserve  and  of  passion  con- 
trolled to  sobriety,  he  let  them  as  it  were  involuntarily 
escape  from  the  seclusion  of  his  soul.  He  is  the  thinker 
among  the  poets  of  his  time,  and  when  splendours  of 
colour  and  opulence  of  sound  have  passed  away,  the 
idea  remains.  In  fragments  from  his  papers,  published 
in  1867,  with  the  title  Journal  d'un  Poete,  the  inner  history 
of  Vigny's  spirit  can  be  traced. 


VICTOR  HUGO  375 


IV 

To  present  VICTOR  HUGO  in  a  few  pages  is  to  carve  a 
colossus  on  a  cherry-stone.  His  work  dominates  half  a 
century.  In  the  years  of  exile  he  began  a  new  and 
greater  career.  During  the  closing  ten  years  his  powers 
had  waned,  but  still  they  were  extraordinary.  Even 
with  death  he  did  not  retire ;  posthumous  publications 
astonished  and  perhaps  fatigued  the  world. 

Victor-Marie  Hugo  was  born  at  Besangon  on  February 
26,  1802,  son  of  a  distinguished  military  officer — 

"  Mon  pi;re  vieux  soldaf,  nta  mtre  Vendeenne" 

Mother  and  children  followed  Commandant  Hugo  to 
Italy  in  1807  ;  in  Spain  they  halted  at  Ernani  and  at 
Torquemada  —  names  remembered  by  the  poet  ;  at 
Madrid  a  Spanish  Quasimodo,  their  school  servant, 
alarmed  the  brothers  Eugene  and  Victor.  A  schoolboy 
in  Paris,  Victor  Hugo  rhymed  his  chivalric  epic,  his 
tragedy,  his  melodrama — "les  betises  que  je  faisais  avant 
ma  naissance."  In  1816  he  wrote  in  his  manuscript  book 
the  words,  "  I  wish  to  be  Chateaubriand  or  nothing." 
At  fifteen  he  was  the  laureate  of  the  Jeux  Floraux,  the 
"enfant  sublime"  of  Chateaubriand's  or  of  Soumet's 
praise. 

Founder,  with  his  brothers,  of  the  Conservateur  Litte- 
raire,  he  entered  into  the  society  of  those  young  aspirants 
who  hoped  to  renew  the  literature  of  France.  In  1822 
he  published  his  Odes  et  Poesies  Diverses,  and,  obtaining  a 
pension  from  Louis  XVIII.,  he  married  his  early  play- 
fellow Adele  Foucher.  Romances,  lyrics,  dramas  followed 
in  swrift  succession.  Hugo,  by  virtue  of  his  genius,  his 
25 


376  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

domineering  temper,  his  incessant  activity,  became  the 
acknowledged  leader  of  the  romantic  school.  In  1841 
he  was  a  member  of  the  Academy  ;  four  years  later  he 
was  created  a  peer.  Elected  deputy  of  Paris  in  1848,  the 
year  of  revolution,  he  sat  on  the  Right  in  the  Con- 
stituant,  on  the  Left  in  the  Legislative  Assembly,  tending 
more  and  more  towards  socialistic  democracy.  The 
Empire  drove  him  into  exile — exile  first  at  Brussels, 
then  in  Jersey,  finally  in  Guernsey,  where  Hugo,  in  his 
own  imagination,  was  the  martyred  but  unsubdued 
demi-god  on  his  sea-beaten  rock.  In  1870,  on  the  fall 
of  the  Empire,  he  returned  to  Paris,  witnessed  the  siege, 
was  elected  to  the  National  Assembly,  urged  a  con- 
tinuance of  the  war,  spoke  in  favour  of  recognising 
Garibaldi's  election,  and  being  tumultuously  interrupted 
by  the  Right,  sent  in  his  resignation.  Occupied  at  Brussels 
in  the  interests  of  his  orphaned  grandchildren,  he  was 
requested  to  leave,  on  the  ground  of  his  zeal  on  behalf  of 
the  fallen  Communists  ;  he  returned  to  Paris,  and  pleaded 
in  the  Rappel  for  amnesty.  In  1875  he  was  elected  a 
senator.  His  eightieth  birthday  was  celebrated  with 
enthusiasm.  Three  years  later,  on  May  23,  1885,  Victor 
Hugo  died.  His  funeral  pomps  were  such  that  one 
might  suppose  the  genius  of  France  itself  was  about  to 
be  received  at  the  Pantheon. 

In  Victor  Hugo  an  enormous  imagination  and  a  vast 
force  of  will  operated  amid  inferior  faculties.  His 
character  was  less  eminent  than  his  genius.  If  it  is 
vanity  to  take  a  magnified  Brocken-shadow  for  one's  self 
and  to  admire  its  superb  gestures  upon  the  mist,-  never 
was  vanity  more  complete  or  more  completely  satisfied 
than  his.  He  was  to  himself  the  hero  of  a  Hugo  legend, 
and  did  not  perceive  when  the  sublime  became  the 


THE  GENIUS  OF  HUGO  377 

ridiculous.  Generous  to  those  beneath  him,  charitable 
to  universal  humanity,  he  was  capable  of  passionate 
vindictiveness  against  individuals  who  had  wounded  his 
self-esteem;  and,  since  whatever  opposed  him  was  neces- 
sarily an  embodiment  of  the  power  of  evil,  the  contest 
rose  into  one  of  Ormuzd  against  Ahriman.  His  intellect, 
the  lesser  faculty,  was  absorbed  by  his  imagination. 
Vacuous  generalities,  clothed  in  magnificent  rhetoric, 
could  pass  with  him  for  ideas ;  but  his  visions  are  some- 
times thoughts  in  images.  The  voice  of  his  passions  was 
leonine,  but  his  moral  sensibility  wanted  delicacy.  His 
laughter  was  rather  boisterous  thjan  fine.  He  is  a  poet 
who  seldom  achieved  a  faultless  rendering  of  the  subtle 
psychology  of  lovers'  hearts  ;  there  was  in  him  a  vein  of 
robust  sensuality.  Children  were  dear  to  him,  and  he 
knew  their  pretty  ways ;  a  cynical  critic  might  allege 
that  he  exploited  overmuch  the  tender  domesticities. 
His  eye  seized  every  form,  vast  or  minute,  defined  or 
vague  ;  his  feeling  for  colour  was  rather  strong  than 
delicate  ;  his  vision  was  obsessed  by  the  antithesis  of 
light  and  shade  ;  his  ear  was  awake  to  every  utterance 
of  wind  or  wave  ;  phantoms  of  sound  attacked  his  imagi- 
nation ;  he  lent  the  vibrations  of  his  nerves,  his  own 
sentiments,  to  material  objects ;  he  took  and  gave  back 
the  soul  of  things.  Words  for  him  were  living  powers; 
language  was  a  moving  mass  of  significant  myths,  from 
which  he  chose  and  which  he  aggrandised  ;  sensations 
created  images  and  words,  and  images  and  words  created 
ideas.  He  was  a  master  of  all  harmonies  of  verse;  now 
a  solitary  breather  through  pipe  or  flute ;  more  often  the 
conductor  of  an  orchestra. 

To  say  that  Hugo  was  the  greatest  lyric  poet  of  France 
is  to  say  too  little;  the  claim  that  he  was  the  greatest 


378  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

lyric  poet  of  all  literature  might  be  urged.  The  power 
and  magnitude  of  his  song  result  from  the  fact  that  in  it 
what  is  personal  and  what  is  impersonal  are  fused  in  one; 
his  soul  echoed  orchestrally  the  orchestrations  of  nature 
and  of  humanity — 

"  Son  dme  aux  miilc  voix,  que  le  Dieu  gu'i7  adore 
Mit  an  centre  de  tout  comme  un  tcho  sonore." 

And  thus  if  his  poetry  is  not  great  by  virtue  of  his  own 
ideas,  it  becomes  great  as  a  reverberation  of  the  sensa- 
tions, the  passions,  and  the  thoughts  of  the  world.  He 
did  not  soar  tranquilly  aloft  and  alone  ;  he  was  always 
a  combatant  in  the  world  and  wave  of  men,  or  borne 
joyously  upon  the  flood.  The  evolution  of  his  genius 
was  a  long  process.  The  Odes  of  1822  and  1824,  the 
Odes  et  Ballades  of  1826,  Catholic  and  royalist  in  their 
feeling,  show  in  their  form  a  struggling  originality  op- 
pressed by  the  literary  methods  of  his  predecessors — 
J.-B.  Rousseau,  Lebrun,  Casimir  Delavigne.  This  origin- 
ality asserts  itself  chiefly  in  the  Ballades.  His  early  prose 
romances,  Han  d°  Islande  (1823)  and  Bug-Jargal  (1826) — 
the  one  a  tale  of  the  seventeenth-cent iry  man-beast  of 
Norway,  the  other  a  tale  of  the  generous  St.  Domingo 
slave — are  challenges  of  youthful  and  extravagant  roman- 
ticism. Le  Dernier  Jour  d'un  Condauine '(1829)  is  a  prose 
study  in  the  pathology  of  passion.  The  same  year  which 
saw  the  publication  of  the  last  of  these  is  also  the  year  of 
Les  Orientales.  These  poems  are  also  studies — amazing 
studies  in  colour,  in  form,  in  all  the  secrets  of  poetic 
art.  The  East  was  popular — Hugo  was  ever  passionate 
for  popularity — and  Spain,  which  he  had  seen,  is  half- 
Oriental.  But  of  what  concern  is  the  East  ?  he  had 
seen  a  sunset  last  summer,  and  the  fancy  took  him  ;  the 


HUGO'S  EARLY  WORK  379 

East  becomes  an  occasion  for  marvellous  combinations 
of  harmony  and  lustrous  tinctures  ;  art  for  its  own  sake 
is  precious. 

From  1827,  when  Cromwell  appeared,  to  1843,  when 
the  epic  in  drama  Les  Burgraves  failed,  Hugo  was  a 
writer  for  the  stage,  diverting  tragedy  from  its  true 
direction  towards  lyrical  melodrama.1  In  the  operatic 
libretto  La  Esmeralda  (1836)  his  lyrical  virtuosity  was 
free  to  display  itself  in  an  appropriate  dramatic  form. 
The  libretto  was  founded  on  his  own  romance  Notre- 
Danie  de  Paris  (1831),  an  evocation,  more  imaginative 
than  historical,  of  the  old  city  of  the  fifteenth  century, 
its  tragic  passions,  its  strangeness,  its  horrors,  and  its 
beauty  ;  it  is  a  marvellous  series  of  fantasies  in  black 
and  white;  things  live  in  it  more  truly  than  persons; 
the  cathedral,  by  its  tyrannous  power  and  intenser  life, 
seems  to  overshadow  the  other  actors.  The  tale  is  a 
juxtaposition  of  violent  contrasts,  an  antithesis  of  dark- 
ness and  light.  Through  Quasimodo  afflicted  humanity 
appeals  for  pity. 

In  the  volume  of  verse  which  followed  Les  Orientales 
after  an  interval  of  two  years,  Les  Feuilles  d' Autom'ne 
(1831),  Hugo  is  a  master  of  his  instrument,  and  does  not 
need  to  display  his  miracles  of  skill ;  he  is  freer  from 
faults  than  in  the  poetry  of  later  years,  but  not  there- 
fore more  to  be  admired.  His  noblest  triumphs  were 
almost  inevitably  accompanied  by  the  excesses  of  his 
audacity.  Here  the  lyrism  is  that  of  memory  and  of 
the  heart — intimate,  tender,  grave,  with  a  feeling  for  the 
hearth  and  home,  a  sensibility  to  the  tranquillising  in- 
fluences of  nature,  a  charity  for  human-kind,  a  faith  in 
God,  a  hope  of  immortality.  Now  and  again,  as  in 
1  See  pp.  391-393- 


380  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

the    epilogue,   the    spirit   of    public    indignation   breaks 
forth— 

"  Etfajoute  d  ma  lyre  une  corde  tfairain? 

The  spirit  of  the  Chants  du  Cre'spuscule  (1835)  is  one  of 
doubt,  trouble,  almost  of  gloom.  Hugo's  faith  in  the 
bourgeois  monarchy  is  already  waning  ;  he  is  a  satirist 
of  the  present ;  he  sees  two  things  that  are  majestic — the 
figure  of  Napoleon  in  the  past,  the  popular  flood-tide  in 
the  future  which  rises  to  threaten  the  thrones  of  kings. 
But  this  tide  is  discerned,  as  it  were,  through  a  dimness 
of  weltering  mist.  Les  Voix  Intericurcs  (1837)  resumes 
the  tendencies  of  the  two  preceding  volumes ;  the  dead 
Charles  X.  is  reverently  saluted  ;  the  legendary  Napoleon 
is  magnified  ;  the  faith  in  the  people  grows  clearer  ;  the 
inner  whispers  of  the  soul  are  caught  with  heedful  ear; 
the  voice  of  the  sea  now  enters  into  Hugo's  poetry  ; 
Nature,  in  the  symbolic  La  Vache,  is  the  mother  and 
the  exuberant  nurse  of  all  living  things.  In  Les  Rayons 
et  les  Ombres  (1840),  Nature  is  not  only  the  nurse,  but  the 
instructress  and  inspirer  of  the  soul,  mingling  spirit  with 
spirit.  Lamartine's  Le  Lac  and  Musset's  Souvenir  find  a 
companion,  not  more  pure,  but  of  fuller  harmonies,  in 
the  Tristesse  d' Olympio ;  reminiscences  of  childhood  are 
magically  preserved  in  the  poem  of  the  Feuillantines. 

From  1840  to  1853  Hugo  as  a  lyrical  poet  was  silent. 
Like  Lamartine,  he  had  concerned  himself  with  politics. 
A  private  grief  oppressed  his  spirits.  In  1843  his  daughter 
Leopoldine  and  her  husband  of  a  few  short  months  were 
drowned.  In  1852  the  poet  who  had  done  so  much  to 
magnify  the  first  Napoleon  in  the  popular  imagination 
was  the  exile  who  launched  his  prose  invective  Napoleon 
le  Petit.  A  year  later  appeared  Les  Chatiments,  in  which 


HUGO'S  LATER  WORK  381 

satire,  with  some  loss  of  critical  discernment,  is  infused 
with  a  passionate  lyrical  quality,  unsurpassed  in  litera- 
ture, and  is  touched  at  times  with  epic  grandeur.  The 
Empire,  if  it  severed  Hugo  from  the  soil  of  France, 
restored  him  to  himself  with  all  his  superb  power  and 
all  his  violences  and  errors  of  genius. 

The  volumes  of  Les  Contemplations  (1856)  mark  the 
culmination  of  Hugo's  powers  as  a  lyrical  poet.  The 
earlier  pieces  are  of  the  past,  from  1830  to  1843,  and 
resemble  the  poems  of  the  past.  A  group  of  poems, 
sacred  to  the  memory  of  his  daughter,  follow,  in  which 
beauty  and  pathos  are  interpenetrated  by  a  consoling 
faith  in  humanity,  in  nature,  and  in  God.  The  concluding 
pieces  are  in  a  greater  manner.  The  visionary  Hugo  lives 
and  moves  amid  a  drama  of  darkness  and  of  light;  gloom 
is  smitten  by  splendour,  splendour  collapses  into  gloom  ; 
and  darkness  and  light  seem  to  have  become  vocal  in 
song. 

But  a  further  development  lay  before  him.  The  great 
lyric  poet  was  to  carry  all  his  lyric  passion  into  an  epic 
presentation,  in  detached  scenes,  of  the  life  of  humanity. 
The  first  part  of  La  Legende  des  Siecles  was  published  in 
1859  (later  series,  1877,  1883).  From  the  birth  of  Eve 
to  ihe  tiumpet  of  judgment  the  vast  cycle  of  ages  and 
events  unrolls  before  us  ;  gracious  episodes  relieve  the 
gloom ;  beauty  and  sublimity  go  hand  in  hand ;  in  the 
shadow  the  great  criminals  are  pursued  by  the  great 
avengers.  The  spirit  of  Les  Ch&timents  is  conveyed  into 
a  view  of  universal  history  ;  if  kings  are  tyrants  and 
priests  are  knaves,  the  people  is  a  noble  epic  hero.  This 
poem  is  the  epopee  of  democratic  passions. 

The  same  spirit  of  democratic  idealism  inspires  Hugo's 
romance  Les  Miscrables  (1862).  The  subject  now  is 


382  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

modern  ;  the  book  is  rather  the  chaos  of  a  prose  epic 
than  a  novel ;  the  hero  is  the  high-souled  outcast  of 
society  ;  everything  presses  into  the  pages  ;  they  are  turn 
by  turn  historical,  narrative,  descriptive,  philosophical 
(with  such  philosophy  as  Hugo  has  to  offer),  humani- 
tarian, lyrical,  dramatic,  at  times  realistic  ;  a  vast  inven- 
tion, beautiful,  incredible,  sublime,  absurd,  absorbing  in 
its  interest,  a  nightmare  in  its  tedium. 

We  have  passed  beyond  the  mid-century,  but  Hugo  is 
not  to  be  presented  as  a  torso.  In  the  tale  Les  Travail- 
leurs  de  la  Mer  (1866)  the  choral  voices  of  the  sea  cover 
the  thinness  and  strain  of  the  human  voices  ;  if  the 
writer's  genius  is  present  in  L'Honune  qui  Rit  (1869), 
it  often  chooses  to  display  its  most  preposterous  atti- 
tudes ;  the  better  scenes  of  Quatre-vingt  Treize  (1874) 
beguile  our  judgment  into  the  generous  concessions 
necessary  to  secure  an  undisturbed  delight.  These  are 
Hugo's  later  poems  in  prose.  In  verse  he  revived  the 
feelings  of  youth  with  a  difference,  and  performed  happy 
caprices  of  style  in  the  Chansons  des  Rues  et  des  Bois 
(1865)  ;  sang  the  incidents  and  emotions  of  his  country's 
sorrow  and  glory  in  L'  Annee  Terrible  (1872);  and — strange 
contrast — the  poetry  of  baby  land  in  L'  Art  d'etre  Grand- 
pere  (1877).  Volume  still  followed  volume — Le  Pape,  La 
Pitie  Supreme,  Religions  et  Religion,  L'Ane,  Les  Quatre 
Vents  de  £  Esprit,  the  drama  Torquemada.  The  best  pages 
in  these  volumes  are  perhaps  equal  to  the  best  in  any  of 
their  author's  writings  ;  the  pages  which  force  antithesis, 
pile  up  synonyms,  develop  commonplaces  in  endless 
variations,  the  pages  which  are  hieratic,  prophetic,  apo- 
calyptic, put  a  strain  upon  the  loyalty  of  our  admiration. 
The  last  legend  of  Hugo's  imagination  was  the  Hugo 
legend :  if  theism  was  his  faith,  autotheism  was  his 


ALFRED  DE  MUSSET  383 

superstition.  Yet  it  is  easy  to  restore  our  loyalty,  and 
to  rediscover  the  greatest  lyric  poet,  the  greatest  master 
of  poetic  counterpoint  that  France  has  known. 


V 

ALFRED  DE  MUSSET  has  been  reproached  with  having 
isolated  himself  from  the  general  interests  and  affairs 
of  his  time.  He  did  not  isolate  himself  from  youth 
or  love,  and  the  young  of  two  generations  were  his 
advocates.  Born  in  1810,  son  of  the  biographer  of 
Rousseau,  he  was  a  Parisian,  inheriting  the  sentiment 
and  the  scepticism  of  the  eighteenth  century.  Impres- 
sionable, excitable,  greedy  of  sensations,  he  felt  around 
him  the  void  left  by  the  departed  glories  of  the  Empire, 
the  void  left  by  the  passing  away  of  religious  faiths. 
One  thing  was  new  and  living — poetry.  Chenier's  re- 
mains had  appeared ;  Vigny,  Hugo,  Lamartine  had 
opened  the  avenues  for  the  imagination  ;  Byron  was 
dead,  but  Harold  and  Manfred  and  Don  Juan  survived. 
Musset,  born  a  poet,  was  ready  for  imaginative  ven- 
tures ;  he  had  been  introduced,  while  still  a  boy,  to  the 
Cenacle.  Spain  and  Italy  were  the  regions  of  romance  ; 
at  nineteen  he  published  his  first  collection  of  poems, 
Conies  d' Espagne  et  d' Italic,  and — an  adolescent  Cherubin- 
Don  Juan  of  song — found  himself  famous. 

He  gave  his  adhesion  to  the  romantic  school,  rather 
with  the  light  effrontery  of  youth  than  with  depth  of 
conviction ;  he  was  impertinent,  ironical,  incredulous, 
blasphemous,  despairing,  as  became  an  elegant  Byron 
minor  of  the  boulevards,  aged  nineteen.  But  some  of 
the  pieces  were  well  composed ;  all  had  the  "  form  and 


384  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

feature  of  blown  youth  "  ;  the  echoes  of  southern  lands 
had  the  fidelity  and  strangeness  of  echoes  tossed  from 
Paris  backwards ;  certain  passages  and  lines  had  a 
classic  grace  ;  it  might  even  be  questioned  whether  the 
Ballade  a  la  Lime  was  a  challenge  to  the  school  of  tradi- 
tion, or  a  jest  at  the  expense  of  his  own  associates. 

A  season  of  hesitation  and  of  transition  followed. 
Musset  was  not  disposed  to  play  the  part  of  the  small 
drummer-boy  inciting  the  romantic  battalion  to  the 
double-quick.  He  began  to  be  aware  of  his  own  in- 
dependence. He  was  romantic,  but  he  had  wit  and 
a  certain  intellectual  good-sense  ;  he  honoured  Racine 
together  with  Hugo  ;  he  could  not  merge  his  individu- 
ality in  a  school.  Yet,  with  an  infirmity  characteristic 
of  him,  Musset  was  discourarged.  It  was  not  in  him 
to  write  great  poetry  of  an  impersonal  kind  ;  his  Nuit 
Veniticnne  had  been  hissed  at  the  Odeon  ;  and  what  had 
he  to  sing  out  of  his  own  heart  ?  He  resolved  to  make 
the  experiment.  Three  years  after  his  first  volume  a 
second  appeared,  which  announced  by  its  title  that, 
while  still  a  dramatic  poet,  he  had  abandoned  the  stage  ; 
the  Spectacle  dans  un  Fauteuit  declared  that,  though  his 
glass  was  small,  it  was  from  his  own  glass  that  he  would 
drink. 

The  glass  contained  the  wine  of  love  and  youth 
mingled  with  a  grosser  potion.  In  the  drama  La  Coupe 
et  les  Levres  he  exhibited  libertine  passion  seeking 
alliance  with  innocence  and  purity,  and  incapable  of 
attaining  self-recovery ;  in  Namouna,  hastily  written  to 
fit  the  volume  for  publication,  he  presented  the  pursuit 
of  ideal  love  as  conducting  its  victim  through  all  the 
lures  of  sensual  desire  ;  the  comedy  A  quoi  revent  les 
jeunes  Filles,  with  its  charm  of  fantasy,  tells  of  a  father's 


MUSSET'S  GREATER  POETRY  385 

device  to  prepare  his  daughters  for  the  good  prose  of 
wedlock  by  the  poetry  of  invented  romance.  Musset 
had  emancipated  himself  from  the  Cenacle,  and  would 
neither  appeal  to  the  eye  with  an  overcharge  of  local 
colour,  nor  seduce  the  ear  with  rich  or  curious  rhymes. 
Next  year  (1833)  in  the  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes  appeared 
Rolla,i\\Q  poem  which  marks  the  culmination  of  Musset's 
early  manner,  and  of  Byron's  influence  on  his  genius ; 
the  prodigal,  beggared  of  faith,  debased  by  self-indulg- 
ence, is  not  quite  a  disbeliever  in  love  ;  through  passion 
he  hastens  forward  in  desperation  to  the  refuge  of 
death. 

At  the  close  of  1833  Musset  was  with  George  Sand  in 
Italy.  The  hours  of  illusion  were  followed  by  months 
of  despair.  He  knew  suffering,  not  through  the  imagi- 
nation, but  in  his  own  experience.  After  a  time  calm 
gradually  returned,  and  the  poet,  great  at  length  by  virtue 
of  the  sincerity  of  genius,  awoke.  He  is  no  longer  frivo- 
lously despairing  and  elegantly  corrupt.  In  Les  Nuits — 
two  of  these  (Mai,  Octobre)  inspired  by  the  Italian  joy  and 
pain — he  speaks  simply  and  directly  from  the  heart  in 
accents  of  penetrating  power.  Solitude,  his  constant 
friend,  the  Muse,  and  love  risfng  from  the  grave  of  love, 
shall  be  his  consolers — 

"  Aprls  avoir  souffert,  ilfaut  souffrir  encore  ; 
Ilfaut  aimer  sans  cesse,  aprds  avoir  aim<f." 

Musset's  powers  had  matured  through  suffering ;  the 
Lettre  a  Lamartine,  the  Espoir  en  Dieu,  the  Souvenir,  the 
elegy  A  la  Malibran,  the  later  stanzas  Apres  une  Lecture 
(1842),  are  masterpieces  of  the  true  Musset — the  Musset 
who  will  live. 

At  thirty    Musset   was  old.      At   rare    intervals   came 


3  86  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

the  flash  and  outbreak  of  a  fiery  mind ;  but  the  years 
were  years  of  lassitude.  His  patriotic  song,  Le  RJiin 
Allemand,  is  of  1841.  In  1852  the  Academy  received 
him.  "  Musset  s'absente  trop,"  observed  an  Academi- 
cian ;  the  ungracious  reply,  "  II  s'absinthe  trop,"  told 
the  truth,  and  it  was  a  piteous  decline.  In  1857,  attended 
by  the  pious  Sister  Marceline,  Musset  died. 

Passion,  the  spirit  of  youth,  sensibility,  a  love  of 
beauty,  intelligence,  esprit,  fantasy,  eloquence,  graceful 
converse — these  were  Musset's  gifts.  He  lacked  ideas; 
he  lacked  the  constructive  imagination  ;  with  great  capa- 
cities as  a  writer,  he  had  too  little  of  an  artist's  passion 
for  perfection.  His  longest  narrative  in  prose,  the  Con- 
fession (fun  Enfant  du  Siecle,  has  borne  the  lapse  of  time 
ill.  "  J'y  ai  vomi  la  verite,"  he  said.  It  is  not  the  happiest 
way  of  communicating  truth,  and  the  moral  of  the  book, 
that  debauchery  ends  in  cynicism,  was  not  left  for  Musset 
to  discover.  Some  of  his  shorter  tales  have  the  charm 
of  fancy  or  the  charm  of  tenderness,  with  breathings 
of  nature  here,  and  there  the  musky  fragrance  of  a  Louis- 
Quinze  boudoir.  Pierre  et  Camille,  with  its  deaf-and- 
dumb  lovers,  and  their  baby,  who  babbles  in  the  pre- 
sence of  the  relenting  grandfather  "  Bonjour,  papa,"  has 
a  pretty  innocence.  Le  Fils  de  Titien  returns  to  the  theme 
of  fallen  art,  the  ruin  of  self-indulgence.  Frederic  et  Ber- 
nerette  and  Mimi  Pinson  may  be  said  to  have  created 
the  poetic  literature  of  the  grisette — gay  and  good,  or 
erring  and  despairful — making  a  flower  of  what  had 
blossomed  in  the  stories  of  Paul  de  Kock  as  a  weed. 

Next  to  the  most  admirable  of  his  lyric  and  elegiac 
poems,  Musset's  best  Comedies  and  Proverbes  (proverbial 
sayings  exemplified  in  dramatic  action),  deserve  a  place. 
Written  in  prose  for  readers  of  the  Revue  dcs  Deux  Mondcs, 


MUSSET'S   DRAMATIC  WORK  387 

their  scenic  qualities  were  discovered  only  in  1847,  when 
the  actress  Madame  Allan  presented  Un  Caprice  and  11 
faut  quun  Porte  soit  ouverte  ou  ferine e  at  St.  Petersburg. 
The  ambitious  Shakespearian  drama  of  political  con- 
spiracy, Lorenzaccio,  was  an  effort  beyond  the  province 
and  the  powers  of  Musset.  His  Andre  del  Sarto,  a  tragic 
representation  of  the  great  painter  betrayed  by  his  wife 
and  his  favourite  pupil,  needed  the  relief  of  his  happier 
fantasy.  It  is  in  such  delicate  creations  of  a  world  of 
romance,  a  world  of  sunshine  and  of  perpetual  spring, 
as  On  ne  badine  pas  avec  I' Amour,  Les  Caprices  de  Mari- 
anne, Le  Chandelier,  II  ne  faut  jurer  de  rien^  that  Musset 
showed  how  romantic  art  could  become  in  a  high  sense 
classic  by  the  balance  of  sensibility  and  intelligence,  of 
fantasy  and  passion.  The  graces  of  the  age  of  Madame 
de  Pompadour  ally  themselves  here  with  the  freer  graces 
of  the  Italian  Renaissance.  Something  of  the  romance 
of  Shakespeare's  more  poetic  comedies  mingles  with  the 
artificial  elegance  of  Marivaux.  Their  subject  is  love, 
and  still  repeated  love  ;  sentiment  is  relieved  by  the  play 
of  gaiety ;  the  grotesque  approaches  the  beautiful ;  we 
sail  in  these  light-timbered  barques  to  a  land  that  lies  not 
very  far  from  the  Illyria  and  Bohemia  and  Arden  forest 
of  our  own  great  enchanter. 


VI 

Lyrical  self-confession  reached  its  limit  in  the  poetry 
of  Musset.  Detachment  from  self  and  complete  sur- 
render to  the  object  is  the  law  of  Gautier's  most  char- 
acteristic work ;  he  is  an  eye  that  sees,  a  hand  that 
moulds  and  colours — that  is  all.  A  child  of  the  South, 


388  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

born  at  Tarbes  in  i8n,THEOPHiLE  GAUTIER  was  a  pupil 
in  the  painter  Rioult's  studio  till  the  day  when,  his  friend 
the  poet  Gerard  de  Nerval  having  summoned  him  to 
take  part  in  the  battle  of  Hernani,  he  swore  by  the 
skull  from  which  Byron  drank  that  he  would  not  be  a 
defaulter.  His  first  volume,  Poesies,  appeared  in  1830, 
and  was  followed  in  two  years  by  Albertus,  a  fantastic 
manufacture  of  strangeness  and  horror,  amorous  sor- 
cery, love-philtres,  witches'  Sabbaths.  The  Come'die  de  la 
Mort  evokes  the  illustrious  shades  of  Raphael,  Faust, 
Don  Juan  to  testify  to  the  vanity  of  knowledge  and 
glory  and  art  and  love.  Gautier's  romantic  enthusiasm 
was  genuine  and  ardent.  The  Orientates  was  his  poetic 
gospel ;  but  the  Orientales  is  precisely  the  volume  in 
which  Hugo  is  least  effusive,  and  pursues  art  most 
exclusively  for  art's  sake.  Love  and  life  and  death  in 
these  early  poems  of  Gautier  are  themes  into  which 
he  works  coloured  and  picturesque  details  ;  sentiment, 
ideas  are  of  value  to  him  so  far  as  they  can  be  ren- 
dered in  images  wrought  in  high  relief  and  tinctured 
with  vivid  pigments. 

It  was  the  sorrow  of  Gautier's  life,  that  born,  as  he 
believed,  for  poetry,  he  was  forced  to  toil  day  after  day, 
year  after  year,  as  a  critic  of  the  stage  and  of  the  art- 
exhibitions.  He  performed  his  task  in  workman-like 
fashion,  seeking  rather  to  communicate  impressions  than 
to  pronounce  judgments.  His  most  valuable  pieces  of 
literary  criticism  are  his  exhumations  of  the  earlier 
seventeenth -century  poets — Theophile,  Cyrano,  Saint- 
Amant,  Scarron,  and  others — published  in  1844,  together 
with  a  study  of  Villon,  under  the  title  Les  Grotesques,  and 
the  memoir  of  1867,  drawn  up  in  compliance  with  the 
request  of  the  Minister  of  Public  Instruction,  on  Les 


GAUTIER'S  PROSE  389 

Progres  de  la  Poesie  Fran^aise  depuis  i8jo.  A  reader  of 
that  memoir  to-day  will  feel,  with  Swift,  that  literary 
reputations  are  dislimned  and  shifted  as  quickly  and 
softly  as  the  forms  of  clouds  when  the  wind  plays 
aloft. 

In  1840  Gautier  visited  Spain ;  afterwards  he  saw 
Italy,  Algeria,  Constantinople,  Russia,  Greece.  He 
travelled  not  as  a  student  of  life  or  as  a  romantic 
sentimentalist.  He  saw  exactly,  and  saw  all  things  in 
colour  ;  the  world  was  for  him  so  much  booty  for  the 
eye.  Endowed  with  a  marvellous  memory,  an  unwearied 
searcher  of  the  vocabulary,  he  could  transfer  the  visual 
impression,  without  a  faltering  outline  or  a  hue  grown 
dim,  into  words  as  exact  and  vivid  as  the  objects  which 
he  beheld.  If  his  imagination  recomposed  things,  it  was 
in  the  manner  of  some  admired  painter ;  he  looked  on 
nature  through  the  medium  of  a  Zurbaran  or  a  Watteau. 
The  dictionary  for  Gautier  was  a  collection  of  gems  that 
flashed  or  glowed  ;  he  chose  and  set  them  with  the  skill 
and  precision  of  a  goldsmith  enamoured  of  his  art.  At 
Athens,  in  one  of  his  latest  wanderings,  he  stood  in  pre- 
sence of  the  Parthenon,  and  found  that  he  was  a  Greek 
who  had  strayed  into  the  Middle  Ages ;  on  the  faith  of 
Notre-Dame  de  Paris  he  had  loved  the  old  cathedrals ; 
"the  Parthenon,"  he  writes,  "has  cured  me  of  the 
Gothic  malady,  which  with  me  was  never  very  severe." 

Gautier's  tales  attained  one  of  their  purposes,  that  of 
astonishing  the  bourgeois  ;  yet  if  he  condescended  to 
ideas,  his  ideas  on  all  subjects  except  art  had  less  value 
than  those  of  the  philistine.  Mademoiselle  de  Maupin  has 
lost  any  pretensions  it  possessed  to  supereminent  immor- 
ality; its  sensuality  is  that  of  a  dream  of  youth;  such 
purity  as  it  possesses,  compared  with  books  •  of  acrid 


390  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

grossness,  lies  in  the  fact  that  the  young  author  loved 
life  and  cared  for  beauty.  In  shorter  tales  he  studiously 
constructs  strangeness — the  sense  of  mystery  he  did  not 
in  truth  possess — on  a  basis  of  exactly  carved  and  exactly 
placed  material.  His  best  invention  is  the  tale  of  actors 
strolling  in  the  time  most  dear  to  his  imagination,  the 
old  days  of  Louis  XIII.,  Le  Capitaine  Fracasse,  suggested 
doubtless  by  Scarron's  Roman  Comiqtic,  and  patiently 
retouched  during  a  quarter  of  a  century. 

Gautier  as  a  poet  found  his  true  self  in  the  little  pieces 
of  the  Emaux  et  Camees.  He  is  not  without  sensibility, 
but  he  will  not  embarrass  himself  with  either  feelings  or 
ideas.  He  has  emancipated  himself  from  the  egoism  of 
the  romantic  tendency.  He  sees  as  a  painter  or  a  gem- 
engraver  sees,  and  will  transpose  his  perceptions  into 
coloured  and  carven  words.  That  is  all,  but  that  is 
much.  He  values  words  as  sounds,  and  can  combine 
them  harmoniously  in  his  little  stanzas.  Life  goes  on 
around  him  ;  he  is  indifferent  to  it,  caring  only  to  fix  the 
colour  of  his  enamel,  to  cut  his  cameo  with  unfaltering 
hand.  When  the  Prussian  assault  was  intended  to  the 
city,  when  Regnault  gave  away  his  life  as  a  soldier, 
Gautier  in  the  Muses'  bower  sat  pondering  his  epithets 
and  filing  his  phrases.  Was  it  strength,  or  was  it  weak- 
ness ?  His  work  survives  and  will  survive  by  virtue  of 
its  beauty — beauty  somewhat  hard  and  material,  but 
such  as  the  artist  sought.  In  1872  Gautier  died.  By 
directing  art  to  what  is  impersonal  he  prepared  the  way 
for  the  Parnassien  school,  and  may  even  be  recognised 
as  one  of  the  lineal  predecessors  of  naturalism. 

These — Lamartine,  Vigny,  Hugo,  Musset,  Gautier — are 
the  names  which  represent  the  poetry  of  nineteenth-cen- 
tury romance;  four  stars  of  varying  magnitudes,  and  one 


THE  ROMANTIC  DRAMA  391 

enormous  cometary  apparition.  There  was  also  a  via 
lactea,  from  which  a  well-directed  glass  can  easily  dis- 
entangle certain  orbs,  pallid  or  fiery :  Sainte-Beuve,  a 
critic  and  analyst  of  moral  disease  and  disenchantment 
in  the  Vie,  Poesies  et  Penstfes  de  Joseph  Delorme;  a  singer 
of  spiritual  reverie,  modest  pleasures,  modest  griefs,  and 
tender  memories  in  the  Consolations  and  the  Pense'es 
(TAoiit;  a  virtuoso  always  in  his  metrical  researches ; 
Auguste  Barbier,  eloquent  in  his  indignant  satires  the 
lambes,  lover  of  Italian  art  and  nature  in  //  Pianto ; 
Auguste  Brizeux,  the  idyllist,  in  his  Marie,  of  Breton 
wilds  and  provincial  works  and  ways  ;  Gerard  de  Nerval, 
Hegesippe  Moreau,  Madame  Desbordes-Valmore,  and 
paler,  lessening  lights.  These  and  others  dwindle  for 
the  eye  into  a  general  stream  of  luminous  atoms. 


VII 

The  weaker  side  of -the  romantic  school  is  apparent  in 
the  theatre.  It  put  forth  a  magnificent  programme  of 
dramatic  reform,  which  it  was  unable  to  carry  out.  The 
preface  to  Victor  Hugo's  Cromwell  (1827)  is  the  earliest 
and  the  most  important  of  its  manifestoes.  The  poetry 
of  the  world's  childhood,  we  are  told,  was  lyrical  ;  that 
of  its  youth  was  epic ;  the  poetry  of  its  maturity  is 
dramatic.  The  drama  aims  at  truth  before  all  else  ; 
it  seeks  to  represent  complete  manhood,  beautiful  and 
revolting,  sublime  and  grotesque.  Whatever  is  found 
in  nature  should  be  found  in  art ;  from  multiple  ele- 
ments an  aesthetic  whole  is  to  be  formed  by  the  sove- 
reignty of  imagination  ;  unity  of  time,  unity  of  place 
are  worthless  conventions  ;  unity  of  action  remains,  and 

26 


392  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

must  be  maintained.  The  play  meant  to  exemplify  the 
principles  of  Hugo's  preface  is  of  vast  dimensions,  in- 
capable of  presentation  on  the  stage  ;  the  large  painting 
of  life  for  which  he  pleaded,  and  which  he  did  not  attain, 
is  of  a  kind  more  suitable  to  the  novel  than  to  the  drama. 
Cromwell,  which  departs  little  from  the  old  rules  respect- 
ing time  and  place,  is  a  flux  and  reflux  of  action,  or  of 
speeches  in  place  of  action,  with  the  question  of  the 
hero's  ambition  for  kingship  as  a  centre ;  its  personages 
are  lay  figures  draped  in  the  costumes  of  historical 
romance. 

The  genius  of  Hugo  was  pre-eminently  lyrical ;  the 
movement  to  which  he  belonged  was  also  essentially 
lyrical,  a  movement  for  the  emancipation  of  the  personal 
element  in  art ;  it  is  by  qualities  which  are  non-dramatic 
that  his  dramas  are  redeemed  from  dishonour.  When, 
in  1830,  his  Hernani  was  presented  at  the  Theatre  Fran- 
c^ais,  a  strange,  long-haired,  bearded,  fantastically-attired 
brigade  of  young  supporters  engaged  in  a  melee  with 
those  spectators  who  represented  the  tyranny  of  tradition. 
"  Kill  him  !  he  is  an  Academician,"  was  heard  above 
the  tumult.  Gautier's  truculent  waistcoat  flamed  in  the 
thickest  of  the  fight.  The  enthusiasm  of  Gautier's  party 
was  justified  by  splendours  of  lyrism  and  of  oratory ; 
but  Hugo's  play  is  ill-constructed,  and  the  characters  are 
beings  of  a  fantastic  world.  In  Marion  Delorme,  in  Le 
Rot  s  amuse,  in  the  prose-tragedy  Lucrece  Borgia,  Victor 
Hugo  develops  a  favourite  theme  by  a  favourite  method — 
the  moral  antithesis  of  some  purity  of  passion  surviving 
amid  a  life  of  corruption,  the  apotheosis  of  virtue  dis- 
covered in  a  soul  abandoned  to  vice,  and  exhibited  in 
violent  contrasts.  Marion  is  ennobled  by  the  sacrifice 
of  whatever  remains  to  her  of  honour ;  the  moral  de- 


HUGO'S  DRAMATIC  WORK  393 

formity  of  Lucrece  is  purified  by  her  instinct  of  maternal 
love ;  the  hideous  Triboulet  is  beautiful  by  virtue  of  his 
devotion  as  a  father.  The  dramatic  study  of  character 
is  too  often  replaced  by  sentimental  rhetoric.  Ruy  Bias, 
like  Marion  Delonne  and  Hernani,  has  extraordinary 
beauties;  yet  the  whole,  with  its  tears  and  laughter,  its 
lackey  turned  minister  of  state,  its  amorous  queen,  is 
an  incredible  phantasmagoria.  Angela  is  pure  melo- 
drama; Marie  Tudor  is  the  melodrama  of  history.  Les 
Burgraves  rises  from  declamation  to  poetry,  or  sinks  from 
poetry  to  declamation  ;  it  is  grandiose,  epic,  or,  if  the 
reader  please,  symbolic  ;  it  is  much  that  it  ought  not 
to  be,  much  that  is  admirable  and  out  of  place  ;  failing 
in  dramatic  truth,  it  fails  with  a  certain  sublimity.  The 
logic  of  action,  truth  of  characterisation,  these  in  tragic 
creation  are  essentials  ;  no  heights  or  depths  of  poetry 
which  is  non-dramatic  can  entirely  justify  works  which 
do  not  accept  the  conditions  proper  to  their  kind. 

The  tragedy  of  Torquemada,  strange  in  conception, 
wonderful  —  and  wonderfully  unequal — in  imaginative 
power,  was  an  inspiration  of  Hugo's  period  of  exile, 
wrought  into  form  in  his  latest  years.  The  dramas  of 
the  earlier  period,  opening  with  an  historical  play  too 
enormous  for  the  stage,  closed  in  1843  with  Les  Bur- 
graves,  which  is  an  epic  in  dialogue.  Aspiring  to  re- 
volutionary freedom,  the  romantic  drama  disdained  the 
bounds  of  art;  epic,  lyric,  tragedy,  comedy  met  and 
mingled,  with  a  result  too  often  chaotic.  The  desired 
harmony  of  contraries  was  not  attained.  Past  ages 
were  to  be  revived  upon  the  stage.  The  historic  evoca- 
tion possessed  too  often  neither  historic  nor  human 
truth  ;  it  consisted  in  "  local  colour,"  and  local  colour 
meant  a  picturesque  display  of  theatrical  bric-a-brac. 


394  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

Yet  a  drama  requires  some  centre  of  unity.  Failing 
of  unity  in  coherent  action  and  well-studied  character, 
can  a  centre  be  provided  by  some  philosophical  or 
pseudo  -  philosophical  idea  ?  Victor  Hugo,  wealthy  in 
imagery,  was  not  wealthy  in  original  ideas  ;  in  grandiose 
prefaces  he  attempted  to  exhibit  his  art  as  the  embodi- 
ment of  certain  abstract  conceptions.  A  great  poet  is 
not  necessarily  a  philosophical  poet.  Hugo's  interpreta- 
tions of  his  own  art  are  only  evidence  of  the  fact  that 
a  writer's  vanity  can  practise  on  his  credulity. 

Among  the  romantic  poets  the  thinker  was  Vigny.  But 
it  is  not  by  its  philosophical  symbolism  that  his  Chatter- 
ton  lives ;  it  is  by  virtue  of  its  comparative  strength  of 
construction,  by  what  is  sincere  in  its  passion,  what  is 
genuine  in  its  pathos,  and  by  the  character  of  its  heroine, 
Kitty  Bell.  In  the  instincts  of  a  dramaturgist  both 
Vigny  and  Hugo  fell  far  short  of  ALEXANDRE  DUMAS 
(1803-70).  Before  the  battle  of  Hernani  he  had  unfolded 
the  romantic  banner  in  his  Henri  III.  et  sa  Cour  (1829)" ;  it 
dazzled  by  its  theatrical  inventions,  its  striking  situations, 
its  ever-changing  display  of  the  stage  properties  of  his- 
torical romance.  His  Antony,  of  two  years  later,  parent 
of  a  numerous  progeny,  is  a  domestic  tragedy  of  modern 
life,  exhaling  Byronic  passion,  misanthropy,  crime,  with 
a  bastard,  a  seducer,  a  murderer  for  its  hero,  and  for 
its  ornaments  all  those  atrocities  which  fascinate  a  crowd 
whose  nerves  can  bear  to  be  agreeably  shattered.  Some- 
thing of  abounding  vitality,  of  tingling  energy,  of  im- 
petuosity, of  effrontery,  secured  a  career  for  Antony,  the 
Tour  de  Nesle,  and  his  other  plays.  The  trade  in  horrors 
lost  its  gallant  freebooting  airs  and  grew  industriously 
commercial  in  the  hands  of  Frederic  Soulie.  When  in 
1843 — the  year  of  Hugo's  unsuccessful  Les  Burgraves — 


DELAVIGNE:  SCRIBE  395 

a  pseudo-classical  tragedy,  the  Lucrece  of  Ponsard,  was 
presented  on  the  stage,  the  enthusiasm  was  great ;  youth 
and  romance,  if  they  had  not  vanished,  were  less  militant 
than  in  the  days  of  Hernani ;  it  seemed  as  if  good  sense 
had  returned  to  the  theatre.1 

Casimir  Delavigne  (1793-1843)  is  remembered  in  lyric 
poetry  by  his  patriotic  odes,  Les  Messe'niennes,  suggested 
by  the  military  disasters  of  France.  His  dramatic  work 
is  noteworthy,  less  for  the  writer's  talent  than  as  indi- 
cating the  influence  of  the  romantic  movement  in  check- 
ing the  development  of  classical  art.  Had  he  been  free 
to  follow  his  natural  tendencies,  Delavigne  would  have 
remained  a  creditable  disciple  of  Racine  ;  he  yielded  to 
the  stream,  and  timidly  approached  the  romantic  leaders 
in  historical  tragedy.  Once  in  comedy  he  achieved  suc- 
cess ;  UEcoU  des  Vieillards  has  the  originality  of  present- 
ing an  old  husband  who  is  generous  in  heart,  and  a 
young  wife  who  is  good-natured  amid  her  frivolity. 
Comedy  during  the  second  quarter  of  the  century  had 
a  busy  ephemeral  life.  The  name  of  Eugene  Scribe,  an 
incessant  improvisator  during  forty  years,  from  1811 
onwards,  in  comedy,  vaudeville,  and  lyric  drama,  seems 
to  recall  that  of  the  seventeenth-century  Hardy.  His 
art  was  not  all  commerce  ;  he  knew  and  he  loved  the 
stage  ;  a  philistine  writing  for  philistines,  Scribe  cared 
little  for  truth  of  character,  for  beauty  of  form  ;  the 
theatrical  devices  became  for  him  ends  in  themselves  ;  of 
these  he  was  as  ingenious  a  master  as  is  the  juggler  in 
another  art  when  he  tosses  his  bewildering  balls,  or 
smiles  at  the  triumph  of  his  inexplicable  surprises. 

1  The  influence  of  the  great  actress  Rachel  helped  to  restore  to  favour  the 
classical  theatre  of  Racine  and  Corneille. 


CHAPTER    IV 
THE  NOVEL 

I 

THE  novel  in  the  nineteenth  century  has  yielded  itself 
to  every  tendency  of  the  age ;  it  has  endeavoured  to 
revive  the  past,  to  paint  the  present,  to  embody  a  social 
or  political  doctrine,  to  express  private  and  personal 
sentiment,  to  analyse  the  processes  of  the  heart,  to 
idealise  life  in  the  magic  mirror  of  the  imagination. 
The  literature  of  prose  fiction  produced  by  writers  who 
felt  the  influence  of  the  romantic  movement  tended  on 
the  one  hand  towards  lyrism,  the  passionate  utterance 
of  individual  emotion — George  Sand's  early  tales  are 
conspicuous  examples ;  on  the  other  hand  it  turned  to 
history,  seeking  to  effect  a  living  and  coloured  evoca- 
tion of  former  ages.  The  most  impressive  of  these 
evocations  was  assuredly  Hugo's  Notre-Dame  de  Paris. 
It  was  not  the  earliest ;  Vigny's  Cinq-Mars  preceded 
Notre-Dame  by  five  years.  The  writer  had  laboriously 
mastered  those  details  which  help  to  make  up  the 
romantic  wise  en  scene ;  but  he  sought  less  to  interpret 
historical  truth  by  the  imagination  than  to  employ  the 
material  of  history  as  a  vehicle  for  what  he  conceived 
to  be  ideal  truth.  In  Merimee's  Chronique  de  Charles  IX. 

(1829),  which  also  preceded  Hugo's  romance,  the  histori- 

396 


THE  HISTORICAL  NOVEL  397 

cal,  or,  if  not  this,  the  archaeological  spirit  is  present ;  it 
skilfully  sets  a  tale  of  the  imagination  in  a  framework  of 
history. 

Hugo's  narratives  are  eminent  by  virtue  of  his  ima- 
gination as  a  poet  ;  they  are  lyrical,  dramatic,  epic  ; 
as  a  reconstitution  of  history  their  value  is  little  or 
is  none.  The  historical  novel  fell  into  the  hands  of 
Alexandre  Dumas.  No  one  can  deny  the  brilliance,  the 
animation,  the  bustle,  the  audacity,  the  inexhaustible 
invention  of  Les  Trots  Mousquetaires  and  its  high-spirited 
fellows.  There  were  times  when  no  company  was  so 
inspiriting  to  us  as  that  of  the  gallant  Athos,  Porthos, 
and  Aramis.  Let  the  critics  assure  us  that  Dumas' 
history  is  untrue,  his  characters  superficial,  his  action 
incredible  ;  we  admit  it,  and  we  are  caught  again  by 
the  flash  of  life,  the  fanfaronade  of  adventure.  We 
throw  Eugene  Sue  to  the  critics  that  we  may  save 
Alexandre  Dumas.  But  Dumas'  brain  worked  faster 
than  his  hand — or  any  human  hand  — could  obey  its 
orders ;  the  mine  of  his  inventive  faculty  needed  a  com- 
mercial company  and  an  army  of  diggers  for  its  ex- 
ploitation. He  constituted  himself  the  managing  director 
of  this  company  ;  twelve  hundred  volumes  are  said  to 
have  been  the  output  of  the  chief  and  his  subordinates ; 
the  work  ceased  to  be  literature,  and  became  mere  com- 
merce. The  money  that  Dumas  accumulated  he  reck- 
lessly squandered.  Half  genius,  half  charlatan,  his  genius 
decayed,  and  his  charlatanry  grew  to  enormous  propor- 
tions. Protected  by  his  son,  he  died  a  poor  man  amid 
the  disasters  of  the  Franco-Prussian  war. 


398  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

II 

HENRI  BEYLE,  who  wrote  under  the  pseudonym  of 
Stendhal,  not  popular  among  his  contemporaries,  though 
winning  the  admiration  of  Merimee  and  the  praise  of 
Balzac,  predicted  that  he  would  be  understood  about 
1880.  If  to  be  studied  and  admired  is  to  be  understood, 
the  prediction  has  been  fulfilled.  Taine  pronounced  him 
the  greatest  psychologist  of  the  century  ;  M.-Zola,  doing 
violence  to  facts,  claimed  him  as  a  literary  ancestor  ; 
M.  Bourget  discovered  in  him  the  author  of  a  nineteenth- 
century  Bible  and  a  founder  of  cosmopolitanism  in  letters. 
During  his  lifetime  Beyle  was  isolated,  and  had  a  pride 
in  isolation.  Born  at  Grenoble  in  1783,  he  had  learnt, 
during  an  unhappy  childhood,  to  conceal  his  natural 
sensibility  ;  in  later  years  this  reserve  was  pushed  to 
affectation.  He  served  under  Napoleon  with  coolness 
and  energy;  he  hated  the  Restoration,  and,  a  lover  of 
Italian  manners  and  Italian  music,  he  chose  Milan  for 
his  place  of  abode.  The  eighteenth-century  materialists 
were  the  masters  of  his  intellect ;  "  the  only  excuse  for 
God,"  he  declared,  "  is  that  he  does  not  exist " ;  in  man 
he  saw  a  being  whose  end  is  pleasure,  wrhose  law  is 
egoism,  and  who  affords  a  curious  field  for  studying 
the  dynamics  of  the  passions.  He  honoured  Napoleon 
as  an  incarnation  of  force,  the  greatest  of  the  condottieri. 
He  loved  the  Italian  character  because  the  passions  in 
Italy  manifest  themselves  with  the  sudden  outbreaks  of 
nature.  He  indulged  his  own  passions  as  a  refuge  from 
ennui,  and  turned  the  scrutiny  of  his  intelligence  upon 
every  operation  of  his  heart.  Fearing  to  be  duped,  he 
became  the  dupe  of  his  own  philosophy.  He  aided  the 
romantic  movement  by  the  paradox  that  all  the  true 


HENRI  BEYLE  399 

classical  writers  were  romantic  in  their  own  day — they 
sought  to  please  their  time  ;  the  pseudo-classical  writers 
attempt  to  maintain  a  lifeless  tradition.  But  he  had  little 
in  common  with  the  romantic  school,  except  a  love  for 
Shakespeare,  a  certain  feeling  for  local  colour,  and  an 
interest  in  the  study  of  passion  ;  the  effusion  and  exalta- 
tion of  romance  repelled  him;  he  laboured  to  be  "dry," 
and  often  succeeded  to  perfection. 

His  analytical  study  De  I' Amour,  resting  on  a  sensual 
basis,  has  all  the  depth  and  penetration  which  is  possible 
to  a  shallow  philosophy.  His  notes  on  travel  and  art 
anticipate  in  an  informal  way  the 'method  of  criticism 
which  became  a  system  in  the  hands  of  Taine  ;  in  a 
line,  in  a  phrase,  he  resolves  the  artist  into  the  resultant 
of  environing  forces.  His  novels  are  studies  in  the 
mechanics  of  the  passions  and  the  will.  Human  energy, 
which  had  a  happy  outlet  in  the  Napoleonic  wars,  must 
seek  a  new  career  in  Restoration  days.  Julien  Sorel,  the 
low-born  hero  of  Le  Rouge  et  le  Noin,  rinding  the  red 
coat  impossible,  must  don  the  priestly  black  as  a  cloak 
for  his  ambition.  Hypocrite,  seducer,  and  assassin,  he 
ends  his  career  under  the  knife  of  the  guillotine.  La 
Chartreuse  de  Parme  exhibits  the  manners,  characters, 
intrigues  of  nineteenth-century  Italy,  with  a  remarkable 
episode  which  gives  a  soldier's  experiences  of  the  field 
of  Waterloo.  In  the  artist's  plastic  power  Beyle  was 
wholly  wanting;  a  collection  of  ingenious  observations 
in  psychology  may  be  of  rare  value,  but  it  does  not 
constitute  a  work  of  art.  His  writings  are  a  whetstone 
for  the  intelligence,  but  we  must  bring  intelligence  to 
its  use,  else  it  will  grind  down  or  break  the  blade.  In 
1842  he  died,  desiring  to  perpetuate  his  expatriation  by 
the  epitaph  which  names  him  Arrigo  Beyle  Milanese. 


400  FRENCH  LITERATURE 


HI 

Lyrical  and  idealistic  are  epithets  which  a  critic  is 
tempted  to  affix  to  the  novels  of  George  Sand  ;  but  from 
her  early  lyrical  manner  she  advanced  to  perfect  idyllic 
narrative  ;  and  while  she  idealised,,  she  observed,  incor- 
porating in  her  best  work  the  results  of  a  patient  and 
faithful  study  of  reality.  A  vaguer  word  may  be  applied 
to  whatever  she  wrote  ;  offspring  of  her  idealism  or  her 
realism,  it  is  always  in  a  true  sense  poetic. 

LuciLE-AuRORE  DUPIN,.  a  descendant  of  Marshal 
Saxe,  was  born  in  Paris  in  1804,  the  daughter  of  Lieu- 
tenant Dupin  and  a  mother  of  humble  origin — a  child 
at  once  of  the  aristocracy  and  of  the  people.  Her  early 
years  were  passed  in  Berri,  at  the  country-house  of  her 
grandmother.  Strong,  calm,  ruminating,  bovine  in 
temperament,  she  had  a  large  heart  and  an  ardent 
imagination.  The  woods,  the  flowers,  the  pastoral 
heights  and  hollows,  the  furrows  of  the  fields,  the  little 
peasants,  the  hemp-dressers  of  the  farm,  their  processes 
of  life,  their  store  of  old  tales  and  rural  superstitions 
made  up  her  earliest  education.  Already  endless  stories 
shaped  themselves  in  her  brain.  At  thirteen  she  was 
sent  to  be  educated  in  a  Paris  convent ;  from  the  bois- 
terous moods  which  seclusion  encouraged,  she  sank  of 
a  sudden  into  depths  of  religious  reverie,  or  rose  to 
heights  of  religious  exaltation,  not  to  be  forgotten 
when  afterwards  she  wrote  Spiridion.  The  country 
cooled  her  devout  ardour ;  she  read  widely,  poets,  his- 
torians, philosophers,  without  method  and  with  bound- 
less delight ;  the  Genie  du  Christianisme  replaced  the 
Imitation;  Rousseau  and  Byron  followed  Chateaubriand, 


GEORGE  SAND  401 

and  romance  in  her  heart  put  on  the  form  of  melan- 
choly. At  eighteen  the  passive  Aurore  was  married  to 
M.  Dudevant,  whose  worst  fault  was  the  absence  of 
those  qualities  of  heart  and  brain  which  make  wedded 
union  a  happiness.  Two  children  were  born ;  and 
having  obtained  her  freedom  and  a  scanty  allowance, 
Madame  Dudevant  in  1831,  in  possession  of  her  son  and 
daughter,  resolved  upon  trying  to  obtain  a  livelihood  in 
the  capital. 

Perhaps  she  could  paint  birds  and  flowers  on  cigar- 
cases  and  snuff-boxes  ;  happily  her  hopes  received 
small  encouragement.  Perhaps  she  could  succeed  in 
journalism  under  her  friend  Delatouche  ;  she  proved 
wholly  wanting  in  cleverness;  her'  imagination  had 
wings  ;  it  could  not  hop  on  the  perch  ;  before  she  had 
begun  the  beginning  of  an  article  the  column  must 
end.  With  her  compatriot  Jules  Sandeau,  she  attempted 
a  novel — Rose  et  Blanche.  "  Sand  "  and  Sandeau  were 
fraternal  names  ;  a  countryman  of  Berri  was  tradition- 
ally George.  Henceforth  the  young  Bohemian,  who 
traversed  the  quais  and  streets  in  masculine  garb,  should 
be  GEORGE  SAND. 

To  write  novels  was  to  her  only  a  process  of  nature ; 
she  seated  herself  before  her  table  at  ten  o'clock,  with 
scarcely  a  plot,  and  only  the  slightest  acquaintance  with 
her  characters  ;  until  five  in  the  evening,  while  her  hand 
guided  a  pen,  the  novel  wrote  itself.  Next  day  and  the 
next  it  was  the  same.  By-and-by  the  novel  had  written 
itself  in  full,  and  another  was  unfolding.  Not  that  she 
composed  mechanically ;  her  stories  were  not  manu- 
factured; they  grew — grew  with  facility  and  in  free 
abundance.  At  first,  a  disciple  of  Rousseau  and 
Chateaubriand,  her  theme  was  the  romance -of  love. 


402  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

In  Indiana,  Valentine,  Leila,  Jacques,  she  vindicated  the 
supposed  rights  of  passion.  These  novels  are  lyrical 
cries  of  a  heart  that  had  been  wounded ;  protests 
against  the  crime  of  loveless  marriage,  against  the 
tyranny  of  man,  the  servitude  of  woman  ;  pleas  for 
the  individualism  of  the  soul — superficial  in  thought, 
ill-balanced  in  feeling,  unequal  in  style,  yet  rising  to 
passages  of  rare  poetic  beauty,  and  often  admirable  in 
descriptive  power.  The  imagination  of  George  Sand  had 
translated  her  private  experiences  into  romance ;  yet  she, 
the  spectator  of  her  own  inventions,  possessed  of  a  fund 
of  sanity  which  underlay  the  agitations  of  her  genius, 
while  she  lent  herself  to  her  creations,  plied  her  pen 
with  a  steady  hand  from  day  to  day.  Unwise  and 
blameful  in  conduct  she  might  be  for  a  season  ;  she 
wronged  her  own  life,  and  helped  to  ruin  the  life  of 
Musset,  who  had  neither  her  discretion  nor  her  years ; 
but  wrhen  the  inevitable  rupture  came  she  could  return 
to  her  better  self. 

Through  Andre,  Simon,  Mauprat — the  last  a  tale  of  love 
subduing  and  purifying  the  savage  instincts  in  man — her 
art  advanced  in  sureness  and  in  strength.  Singularly 
accessible  to  external  influences,  singularly  receptive  of 
ideas,  the  full  significance  and  relations  of  which  she 
failed  to  comprehend,  she  felt  the  force  of  intelligences 
stronger  than  her  own — of  Lamennais,  of  Ledru-Rollin, 
of  Jean  Raynaud,  of  Pierre  Leroux.  Mystical  religious 
sentiment,  an  ardent  enthusiasm  of  humanity,  mingled 
in  her  mind  with  all  the  discordant  formulas  of  socialism. 
From  1840  to  1848  her  love  and  large  generosity  of 
nature  found  satisfaction  in  the  ideals  and  the  hopes  of 
social  reform.  Her  novels  Consuelo,  Jeanne,  Le  Meunier 
d'Angibault,  Le  Pech<?  de  M.  Antoine,  become  expositions 


IDYLLIC  TALES  403 

of  a  thesis,  or  are  diverted  from  their  true  development 
to  advocate  a  cause.  The  art  suffers.  Jeanne,  so  admir- 
able in  its  rural  heroine,  wanders  from  nature  to  humani- 
tarian symbolism;  Consuelo,  in  which  the  writer  studies 
so  happily  the  artistic  temperament,  too  often  loses  itself 
in  a  confusion  of  ill-understood  ideas  and  tedious  de- 
clamation. But  the  gain  of  escape  from  the  egoism  of 
passion  to  a  more  disinterested,  even  if  a  doctrinaire, 
view  of  life  was  great.  George  Sand  was  finding  her 
way. 

Indeed,  while  writing  novels  in  this  her  second  manner, 
she  had  found  her  way  ;  her  third  manner  was  attained 
before  the  second  had  lost  its  attraction.  La  Mare  au 
Diable  belongs  to  the  year  1846 ;  La  Petite  Fadette,  to 
the  year  of  Revolution,  1848,  which  George  Sand,  ever 
an  optimist,  hailed  with  joy ;  Francois  le  Champi  is  but 
two  years  later.  In  these  delightful  tales  she  returns 
from  humanitarian  theories  to  the  fields  of  Berri,  to 
humble  walks,  and  to  the  huts  where  poor  men  lie. 
The  genuine  idyll  of  French  peasant  life  was  new  to 
French  literature;  the  better  soul  of  rural  France,  George 
Sand  found  deep  within  herself ;  she  had  read  the  ex- 
ternal circumstances  and  incidents  of  country  life  with 
an  eye  as  faithful  in  observation  as  that  of  any  student 
who  dignifies  his  collection  of  human  documents  with 
the  style  and  title  of  realism  in  art ;  with  a  sense  of 
beauty  and  the  instincts  of  affection  she  merged  herself 
in  what  she  saw ;  her  feeling  for  nature  is  realised  in 
gracious  art,  and  her  art  seems  itself  to  be  nature. 

In  the  novels  of  her  latest  years  she  moved  from  Berri 
to  other  regions  of  France,  and  interpreted  aristocratic 
together  with  peasant  life.  Old,  experienced,  infinitely 
good  and  attaching,  she  has  tales  for  her  grandchildren, 


404  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

and  romances — Jean  de  la  Roche,  Le  Marquis  de  Villemer, 
and  the  rest — for  her  other  grandchildren  the  public.  The 
soul  of  the  peasant,  of  the  artist,  of  the  man  who  must 
lean  upon  a  stronger,  woman's  arm,  of  the  girl — neither 
child  nor  fully  adult  — she  entered  into  with  deepest  and 
truest  sympathy.  The  simple,  austere,  stoical,  heroic 
man  she  admired  as  one  above  her.  Her  style  at  its  best, 
flowing  without  impetuosity,  full  and  pure  without  com- 
motion, harmonious  without  complex  involutions,  can 
mirror  beauty  as  faithfully  and  as  magically  as  an  inland 
river.  "Calme,  toujours  plus  calme,"  was  a  frequent 
utterance  of  her  declining  years.  "  Ne  detruisez  pas  la 
verdure"  were  her  latest  words.  In  1876  George  Sand 
died.  Her  memoirs  and  her  correspondence  make  us 
intimate  with  a  spirit,  amid  all  its  errors,  sweet,  generous, 
and  gaining  through  experience  a  wisdom  for  the  season 
of  old  age. 


IV 

George  Sand  may  be  described  as  an  "  idealist,"  if  we 
add  the  words  "  with  a  remarkable  gift  for  observation." 
Her  great  contemporary  HONORS  DE  BALZAC  is  named 
a  realist,  but  he  was  a  realist  haunted  or  attacked  by 
phantasms  and  nightmares  of  romance.  Born  in  1799 
at  Tours,  son  of  an  advocate  turned  military  commis- 
sariat-agent, Honore  de  Balzac,  after  some  training  in 
the  law,  resolved  to  write,  and,  if  possible,  not  to  starve. 
With  his  robust  frame,  his  resolute  will,  manifest  in  a 
face  coarsely  powerful,  his  large  good-nature,  his  large 
egoism,  his  audacity  of  brain,  it  seemed  as  if  he  might 
shoulder  his  way  through  the  crowd  to  fortune  and  to 


HONORS  DE  BALZAC  405 

fame.  But  fortune  and  fame  were  hard  to  come  at. 
His  tragedy  Cromwell  was  condemned  by  all  who  saw 
the  manuscript ;  his  novels  were  published,  and  lie  deep 
in  their  refuge  under  the  waters  of  oblivion.  He  tried 
the  trades  of  publisher,  printer,  type-founder,  and  suc- 
ceeded in  encumbering  himself  with  debt.  At  length  in 
1829  Le  Dernier  Chouan,  a  half-historical  tale  of  Brittany 
in  1800,  not  uninfluenced  by  Scott,  was  received  with  a 
measure  of  favour. 

Next  year  Balzac  found  his  truer  self,  overlaid  with 
journalism,  pamphleteering,  and  miscellaneous  writing, 
in  a  Dutch  painting  of  bourgeois  life,  Le  Maison  du  Chat- 
qui-pelote,  which  relates  the  sorrows  of  the  draper's 
daughter,  Augustine,  drawn  from  her  native  sphere  by 
an  artist's  love.  From  the  day  that  Balzac  began  to 
wield  his  pen  with  power  to  the  day,  in  1850,  when  he 
died,  exhausted  by  the  passion  of  his  brain,  his  own  life 
was  concentrated  in  that  of  the  creatures  of  his  imagina- 
tion. He  had  friends,  and  married  one  of  the  oldest  of 
them,  Madame  Hanska,  shortly  before  his  death.  Some- 
times for  a  little  while  he  wandered  away  from  his  desk. 
More  than  once  he  made  wild  attempts  to  secure  wealth 
by  commercial  enterprise  or  speculation.  These  were 
adventures  or  incidents  of  his  existence.  That  existence 
itself  is  summed  up  in  the  volumes  of  his  Human  Comedy. 
He  wrote  with  desperate  resolve  and  a  violence  of  imagi- 
nation ;  he  attacked  the  printer's  proof  as  if  it  were  crude 
material  on  which  to  work.  At  six  in  the  evening  he  re- 
tired to  sleep ;  he  rose  at  the  noon  of  night,  urged  on  his 
brain  with  cups  of  coffee,  and  covered  page  after  page 
of  manuscript,  until  the  noon  of  day  released  him.  So 
it  went  on  for  nearly  twenty  years,  until  the  intem- 
perance of  toil  had  worn  the  strong  man  out. 


406  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

There  is  something  gross  in  Balzac's  genius  ;  he  has 
little  wit,  little  delicacy,  no  sense  of  measure,  no  fine 
self-criticism,  no  lightness  of  touch,  small  insight  into 
the  life  of  refined  society,  an  imperfect  sense  of  natural 
beauty,  a  readiness  to  accept  vulgar  marvels  as  the  equi- 
valent of  spiritual  mysteries  ;  he  is  monarchical  without 
the  sentiment  of  chivalric  loyalty,  a  Catholic  without 
the  sentiment  of  religion  ;  he  piles  sentence  on  sentence, 
hard  and  heavy  as  the  accumulated  stones  of  a  cairn. 
Did. he  love  his  art  for  its  own  sake  ?  It  must  have  been 
so  ;  but  he  esteemed  it  also  as  an  implement  of  power, 
as  the  means  of  pushing  towards  fame  and  grasping  gold. 

Within  the  gross  body  of  his  genius,  however,  an  in- 
tense flame  burnt.  He  had  a  vivid  sense  of  life,  a 
perception  of  all  that  can  be  ssen  and  handled,  an 
eager  interest  in  reality,  .a  vast  passion  for  things,  an  in- 
exhaustible curiosity  about  the  machinery  of  society,  a 
feeling,  exultant  or  cynical,  of  the  battle  of  existence,  of 
the  conflict  for  wealth  and  power,  with  its  triumphs  and 
defeats,  its  display  of  fierce  volition,  its  pushing  aside  of 
the  feeble,  its  trampling  of  the  fallen,  its  grandeur,  its 
meanness,  its  obscure  heroisms,  and  the  cruelties  of  its 
pathos.  He  flung  himself  on  the  life  of  society  with  a 
desperate  energy  of  inspection,  and  tried  to  make  the 
vast  array  surrender  to  his  imagination.  And  across  his 
vision  of  reality  shot  strange  beams  and  shafts  of  romantic 
illumination — sometimes  vulgar  theatrical  lights,  some- 
times gleams  like  those  which  add  a  new  reality  of  wonder 
to  the  etchings  of  Rembrandt.  What  he  saw  with  the 
eyes  of  the  senses  or  those  of  the  imagination  he  could 
evoke  without  the  loss  of  any  fragment  of  its  life,  and 
could  transfer  it  to  the  brain  of  his  reader  as  a  vision 
from  which  escape  is  impossible. 


BALZAC'S  GENIUS  407 

The  higher  world  of  aristocratic  refinement,  the  grace 
and  natural  delicacy  of  virginal  souls,  in  general  eluded 
Balzac's  observation.  He  found  it  hard  to  imagine  a  lady; 
still  harder — though  he  tried  and  half  succeeded — to  con- 
ceive the  mystery  of  a  young  girl's  mind,  in  which  the 
airs  of  morning  are  nimble  and  sweet.  The  gross  bour- 
geois world,  which  he  detested,  and  a  world  yet  humbler 
was  his  special  sphere.  He  studied  its  various  elements 
in  their  environment ;  a  street,  a  house,  a  chamber  is  as 
much  to  him  as  a  human  being,  for  it  is  part  of  the 
creature's  shell,  shaped  to  its  uses,  corresponding  to  its 
nature,  limiting  its  action.  He  has  created  a  population 
of  persons  which  numbers  two  thousand.  Where  Balzac 
does  not  fail,  each  of  these  is  a  complete  individual ;  in 
the  prominent  figures  a  controlling  passion  is  the  centre 
of  moral  life — the  greed  of  money,  the  desire  for  distinc- 
tion, the  lust  for  power,  some  instinct  or  mania  of  animal 
affection.  The  individual  exists  in  a  group  ;  power  cir- 
culates from  inanimate  objects  to  the  living  actors  of  his 
tale ;  the  environment  is  an  accomplice  in  the  action ; 
power  circulates  from  member  to  member  of  the  group; 
finally,  group  and  group  enter  into  correspondence  or 
conflict ;  and  still  above  the  turmoil  is  heard  the  ground- 
swell  of  the  tide  of  Paris. 

The  change  from  the  Renes  and  Obermanns  of  melan- 
choly romance  was  great.  But  in  the  government  of 
Louis-Philippe  the  bourgeoisie  triumphed ;  and  Balzac 
hated  the  bourgeoisie.  From  1830  to  1840  were  his 
greatest  years,  which  include  the  Peau  de  Chagrin,  Eugenie 
Grandet,  La  Recherche  del'  Absolu,  LePere  Goriot,  and  other 
masterpieces.  To  name  their  titles  would  be  to  recite  a 
Homeric  catalogue.  At  an  early  date  Balzac  conceived 
the  idea  of  connecting  his  tales  in  groups.  They  acquired 
27 


408  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

their  collective  title,  La  Com^die  Humaine,  in  1842.  He 
would  exhibit  human  documents  illustrating  the  whole 
social  life  of  his  time ;  "  the  administration,  the  church, 
the  army,  the  judicature,  the  aristocracy,  the  bourgeoisie, 
the  proletariat,  the  peasantry,  the  artists,  the  journalists, 
the  men  of  letters,  the  actors,  .  .  .  the  shopkeepers  of 
every  degree,  the  criminals,"  should  all  appear  in  his 
vast  tableau  of  society.  His  record  should  include  scenes 
from  private  life,  scenes  from  Parisian,  provincial,  politi- 
cal, military,  rural  life,  with  philosophical  studies  in  nar- 
rative and  analytic  treatises  on  the  passions.  The  spirit 
of  system  took  hold  upon  Balzac  ;  he  had,  in  common 
with  Victor  Hugo,  a  gift  for  imposing  upon  himself  with 
the  charlatanry  of  pseudo-ideas ;  to  observe,  to  analyse, 
to  evoke  with  his  imagination  was  not  enough  ;  he  also 
would  be  among  the  philosophers — and  Balzac's  philo- 
sophy is  often  pretentious  and  vulgar,  it  is  often  banal. 
Outside  the  general  scheme  of  the  human  comedy  lie 
his  unsuccessful  attempts  for  the  theatre,  and  the  Contes 
Drolatiques,  in  which  the  pseudo- antique  Rabelaisian 
manner  and  the  affluent  power  do  not  entirely  atone 
for  the  anachronism  of  a  grossness  more  natural  in  the 
sixteenth  than  in  the  nineteenth  century. 


V 

Was  it  possible  to  be  romantic  without  being  lyrical  ? 
Was  it  possible  to  produce  purely  objective  work,  reserv- 
ing one's  own  personality,  and  glancing  at  one's  audience 
only  with  an  occasional  look  of  superior  irony  ?  Such 
was  the  task  essayed  by  PROSPER  MERIMEE  (1803-70). 
With  some  points  of  resemblance  in  character  to  Beyle, 


PROSPER  ME*RIMEE  409 

whose  ideas  were  influential  on  his  mind,  Merimee  pos- 
sessed the  plastic  imagination  and  the  craftsman's  skill, 
in  which  Beyle  was  deficient.  "  He  is  a  gentleman," 
said  Cousin,  and  the  words  might  serve  for  Merimee's 
epitaph ;  a  gentleman  not  of  nature's  making,  or  God 
Almighty's  kind,  but  constructed  in  faultless  bearing 
according  to  the  rules.  Such  a  gentleman  must  betray 
no  sensibility,  must  express  no  sentiment,  must  indulge 
no  enthusiasm,  must  attach  himself  to  no  faith,  must  be 
superior  to  all  human  infirmities,  except  the  infirmity 
of  a  pose  which  is  impressive  only  by  its  correctness ; 
he  may  be  cynical,  if  the  cynicism  is  wholly  free  from 
emphasis  ;  he  may  be  ironical,  if  the  irony  is  sufficiently 
disguised  ;  he  may  mystify  his  fellows,  if  he  keeps  the 
pleasure  of  mystification  for  his  private  amusement. 
Should  he  happen  to  be  an  artist,  he  must  appear  to 
be  only  a  dilettante.  He  must  never  incur  ridicule,  and 
yet  his  whole  attitude  may  be  ridiculous. 

Such  a  gentleman  was  Prosper  Merimee.  He  had 
the  gift  of  imagination,  psychological  insight,  the  artist's 
shaping  hand.  His  early  romantic  plays  were  put  forth 
as  those  of  Clara  Gazul,  a  Spanish  comedienne.  His 
Illyrian  poems,  La  Guzla,  were  the  work  of  an  imaginary 
Hyacinthe  Maglanovich,  and  Merime'e  could  smile  gently 
at  the  credulity  of  a  learned  public.  He  took  up  the 
short  story  where  Xavier  de  Maistre,  who  had  known 
how  to  be  both  pathetic  and  amiably  humorous,  and 
Charles  Nodier,  who  had  given  play  to  a  graceful 
fantasy,  left  it.  He  purged  it  of  sentiment,  he  reduced 
fantasy  to  the  law  of  the  imagination,  and  produced 
such  works  as  Carmen  and  Colombo.,  each  one  a  little 
masterpiece  of  psychological  truth,  of  temperate  local 
colour,  of  faultless  narrative,  of  pure  objective  art. 


410  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

The  public  must  not  suppose  that  he  cares  for  his 
characters  or  what  befell  them  ;  he  is  an  archaeologist, 
a  savant,  and  only  by  accident  a  teller  of  tales.  Merimee 
had  more  sensibility  than  he  would  confess ;  it  shows 
itself  for  moments  in  the  posthumous  Lettres  d  une 
Inconnue ;  but  he  has  always  a  bearing-rein  of  ironical 
pessimism  to  hold  his  sensibility  in  check.  The  egoism 
of  the  romantic  school  appears  in  Merimee  inverted ;  it 
is  the  egoism  not  of  effusion  but  of  disdainful  reserve.1 

1  It  is  one  of  Merimee's  merits  that  he  awakened  in  France  an  interest  in 
Russian  literature. 


CHAPTER   V 

HISTORY— LITERARY  CRITICISM 

I 

THE  progress  of  historical  literature  in  the  nineteenth 
century  was  aided  by  the  change  which  had  taken  place 
in  philosophical  opinion  ;  instead  of  a  rigid  system  of 
abstract  ideas,  which  disdained  the  thought  of  past  ages 
as  superstition,  had  come  an  eclecticism  guided  by 
spiritual  beliefs.  The  religions  of  various  lands  and 
various  ages  were  viewed  with  sympathetic  interest ; 
the  breach  of  continuity  from  mediaeval  to  modern 
times  was  repaired ;  the  revolutionary  spirit  of  in- 
dividualism gave  way  before  a  broader  concern  for 
society  ;  the  temper  in  politics  grew  more  cautious 
and  less  dogmatic  ;  the  great  events  of  recent  years  en- 
gendered historical  reflection  ;  literary  art  was  renewed 
by  the  awakening  of  the  romantic  imagination. 

The  historical  learning  of  the  Empire  is  represented  by 
Daunou,  an  explorer  in  French  literature ;  by  Ginguene, 
the  literary  historian  of  Italy  ;  by  Michaud,  who  devoted 
his  best  years  to  a  History  of  the  Crusades.  In  his  De  la 
Religion  (1824-31)  Benjamin  Constant,  in  Restoration 
days,  traced  the  progress  of  the  religious  sentiment, 
cleaving  its  way  through  dogma  and  ordinance  to  a 
free  and  full  development.  Sismondi  (1773-1842),  in 


412  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

his  Histoire  des  Franqais,  investigated  such  sources  as 
were  accessible  to  him,  studied  economic  facts,  and  in 
a  liberal  spirit  exhibited  the  life  of  the  nation,  and  not 
merely  the  acts  of  monarchs  or  the  intrigues  of  states- 
men. His  wide,  though  not  profound,  erudition  com- 
prehended Italy  as  well  as  '  France  ;  the  Histoire  des 
Republiques  Italiennes  is  the  chart  of  a  difficult  labyrinth. 
The  method  of  disinterested  narrative,  which  abstains 
from  ethical  judgments,  propounds  no  thesis,  and  aims 
at  no  doctrinaire  conclusion,  was  followed  by  Barante 
in  his  Histoire  des  Dues  de  Bourgogne.  The  precept  of 
Quintilian  expresses  his  rule  :  "  Scribitur  ad  narrandum, 
non  ad  probandum." 

Each  school  of  nineteenth-century  thought  has  had  its 
historical  exponents.  Liberal  Catholicism  is  represented 
by  Montalembert,  Ozanam,  De  Broglie  ;  socialism,  by 
Louis  Blanc;  a  patriotic  Caesarism,  by  Thiers;  the  de- 
mocratic school,  by  Michelet  and  Quinet ;  philosophic 
liberalism,  by  Guizot,  Mignet,  and  Tocqueville. 

AUGUSTIN  THIERRY  (1795-1856)  nobly  led  the  way. 
Some  pages  of  Chateaubriand,  full  of  the  sentiment  of 
the  past,  were  his  first  inspiration  ;  at  a  later  time  the 
influence  of  Fauriel  and  the  novels  of  Walter  Scott, 
"the  master  of  historical  divination,"  confirmed  him  in 
his  sense  of  the  uses  of  imagination  as  an  aid  to  the 
scholarship  of  history.  For  a  time  he  acted  as  secretary 
to  Saint- Simon,  and  under  his  influence  proposed  a 
scheme  for  a  community  of  European  peoples  which 
should  leave  intact  the  nationality  of  each.  Then  he 
parted  from  his  master,  to  pursue  his  way  in  inde- 
pendence. It  seemed  to  him  that  the  social  condition 
and  the  revolutions  of  modern  Europe  had  their  origins 
in  the  Germanic  invasions,  and  especially  in  the  Norman 


AUGUSTIN  THIERRY  413 

Conquest  of  England.  As  he  read  the  great  collection 
of  the  original  historians  of  France  and  Gaul,  he  grew 
indignant  against  the  modern  travesties  named  history, 
indignant  against  writers  without  erudition,  who  could 
not  see,  and  writers  without  imagination,  who  could  not 
depict.  The  conflict  of  races — Saxons  and  Normans  in 
England,  Gauls  and  Franks  in  his  own  country — re- 
mained with  him  as  a  dominant  idea,  but. he  would  not 
lose  himself  in  generalisations ;  he  would  involve  the 
abstract  in  concrete  details ;  he  would  see,  and  he 
would  depict.  There  was  much  philosophy  in  abstain- 
ing from  philosophy  overmuch.  The  Lettres  sur  I'His- 
toire  de  France  were  followed  in  1825  by  the  Histoire  de 
la  Conquete  de  I' Angleterre,  in  which  the  art  of  histo- 
riography attained  a  perfection  previously  unknown. 
Through  charter  and  chronicle,  Thierry  had  reached 
the  spirit  of  the  past.  He  had  prophesied  upon  the 
dry  bones  and  to  the  wind,  and  the  dry  bones  lived. 
As  a  liberal,  he  had  been  interested  in  contemporary 
politics.  His  political  ardour  had  given  him  that  his- 
torical perspicacity  which  enabled  him  to  discover  the 
soul  behind  an  ancient  text. 

In  1826  Thierry,  the  martyr  of  his  passionate  studies, 
suffered  the  calamity  of  blindness.  With  the  aid  of  his 
distinguished  brother,  of  friends,  and  secretaries — above 
all,  with  the  aid  of  the  devoted  woman  who  became  his 
wife,  he  pursued  his  work.  The  Re'cits  des  Temps  Me'ro- 
vingiens  and  the  Essai  sur  V Histoire  de  la  Formation  du 
Tiers  Etat  were  the  labours  of  a  sightless  scholar.  His 
passion  for  perfection  was  greater  than  ever ;  twenty, 
fifteen  lines  a  day  contented  him,  if  his  idea  was  ren- 
dered clear  and  enduring  in  faultless  form.  Paralysis 
made  its  steady  advance  ;  still  he  kept  his  intellect  above 


4i4  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

his  infirmities,  and  followed  truth  and  beauty.  On  May  22, 
1856,  he  woke  his  attendant  at  four  in  the  morning,  and 
dictated  with  laboured  speech  the  alteration  of  a  phrase 
for  the  revised  Conquete.  On  the  same  day,  "  insatiable 
of  perfection,"  Thierry  died.  He  is  not,  either  in  sub- 
stance, thought,  or  style,  the  greatest  of  modern  French 
historians ;  but,  more  than  any  other,  he  was  an 
initiator. 

The  life  of  FRANCOIS  GUIZOT — great  and  venerable 
name — is  a  portion  of  the  history  of  his  country.  Born 
at  Nimes  in  1787,  of  an  honourable  Protestant  family, 
he  died,  with  a  verse  of  his  favourite  Corneille  or  a  text  of 
Scripture  on  his  lips,  in  1874.  Austere  without  severity, 
simple  in  habit  without  rudeness,  indomitable  in  courage, 
imperious  in  will,  gravely  eloquent,  he  had  at  once  the 
liberality  and  the  narrowness  of  the  middle  classes,  which 
he  represented  when  in  power.  A  threefold  task,  as  he 
conceived,  lies  before  the  historian  :  he  must  ascertain 
facts  ;  he  must  co-ordinate  these  facts  under  laws,  study- 
ing the  anatomy  and  the  physiology  of  society  ;  finally, 
he  must  present  the  external  physiognomy  of  the  facts. 
Guizot  was  not  endo\ved  with  the  artist's  imagination ; 
he  had  no  sense  of  life,  of  colour,  of  literary  style ;  he 
was  a  thinker,  who  saw  the  life  of  the  past  through  the 
medium  of  ideas ;  he  does  not  in  his  pages  evoke  a 
world  of  animated  forms,  of  passionate  hearts,  of  vivid 
incidents ;  he  distinguishes  social  forces,  with  a  view  to 
arrive  at  principles  ;  he  considers  those  forces  in  their 
play  one  upon  another. 

The  Histoire  Generate  de  la  Civilisation  en  Europe  and 
the  Histoire  de  la  Civilisation  en  France  consist  of  lectures 
delivered  from  1828  to  1830  at  the  Sorbonne.1  Guizot 

1  The  History  of  Civilisation  in  France  closes  with  the  fourteenth  century. 


FRANCOIS  GUIZOT  415 

recognised  that  the  study  of  institutions  must  be  pre- 
ceded by  a  study  of  the  society  which  has  given 
them  birth.  In  the  progress  of  civilisation  he  saw  not 
merely  the  development  of  communities,  but  also  that 
of  the  individual.  The  civilisation  of  Europe,  he  held, 
was  most  intelligibly  exhibited  in  that  of  France, 
where,  more  than  in  other  countries,  intellectual  and 
social  development  have  moved  hand  in  hand,  where 
general  ideas  and  doctrines  have  always  accompanied 
great  events  and  public  revolutions.  The  "key  to  the 
meaning  of  French  history  he  found  in  the  tendency 
towards  national  and  political  unity.  From  the  tenth 
to  the  fourteenth  century  four  great  forces  met  in  co- 
operation or  in  conflict — royalty,  the  feudal  system, 
the  communes,  the  Church.  Feudalism  fell ;  a  great 
monarchy  arose  upon  its  ruins.  The  human  mind 
asserted  its  spiritual  independence  in  the  Protestant 
reformation.  The  tiers  etat  \vas  constantly  advancing 
in  strength.  The  power  of  the  monarchy,  dominant 
in  the  seventeenth  century,  declined  in  the  century 
that  followed  ;  the  power  of  the  people  increased.  In 
modern  society  the  elements  of  national  life  are  reduced 
to  two — the  government  on  the  one  hand,  the  people 
on  the  other ;  how  to  harmonise  these  elements  is  the 
problem  of  modern  politics.  As  a  capital  example  for 
the  French  bourgeoisie,  Guizot,  returning  to  an  early 
work,  made  a  special  study  of  the  great  English  revolu- 
tion of  the  seventeenth  century.  In  Germany,  of  the 
preceding  century,  the  revolution  was  religious  and  not 
political.  In  France,  of  the  succeeding  century,  the 
revolution  was  political  and  not  religious.  The  rare 
good  fortune  of  England  lay  in  the  fact  that  the  spirit 
of  religious  faith  and  the  spirit  of  political  freedom 


416  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

ruled  together,  and  co-operated  towards  a  common 
result. 

The  work  of  FRANCOIS  MIGNET  (1796-1884),  eminent 
for  its  research,  exactitude,  clearness,  ordonnance,  has 
been  censured  for  its  historical  fatalism.  In  reality 
Mignet's  mind  was  too  studious  of  facts  to  be'dominated 
by  a  theory.  He  recognised  the  great  forces  which 
guide  and  control  events  ;  he  recognised  also  the  power 
and  freedom  of  the  individual  will.  His  early  Histoire 
de  la  Revolution  Fran^aise  is  a  sane  and  lucid  arrange- 
ment of  material  that  came  to  his  hands  in  chaotic 
masses.  His  later  and  more  important  writings  deal 
with  his  special  province,  the  sixteenth  century ;  his 
method,  as  he  advanced,  grew  more  completely  ob- 
jective ;  we  discern  his  ideas  through  the  lines  of  a 
well-proportioned  architecture. 

The  analytic  method  of  Guizot,  supported  by  a  method 
of  patient  induction,  was  applied  by  ALEXIS  DE  TOCQUE- 
VILLE  (1805-59)  to  the  study  of  the  great  phenomenon 
of  modern  democracy.  Limiting  the  area  of  investiga- 
tion to  America,  which  he  had  visited  on  a  public 
mission,  he  investigated  the  political  organisation,  the 
manners  and  morals,  the  ideas,  the  habits  of  thought 
and  feeling  of  the  United  States  as  influenced  by  the 
democratic  equality  of  conditions.  He  wrote  as  a  liberal 
in  whom  the  spirit  of  individualism  was  active.  He  re- 
garded the  progress  of  democracy  in  the  modern  world 
as  inevitable  ;  he  perceived  the  dangers — formidable  for 
society  and  for  individual  character— which  accompany 
that  progress ;  he  believed  that  by  foresight  and  wise 
ordering  many  of  the  dangers  could  be  averted.  The 
fears  and  hopes  of  the  citizen  guided  and  sustained  in 
Tocqueville  a  philosophical  intelligence.  Turning  from 


TOCQUEVILLE:    TRIERS  417 

America  to  France,  he  designed  to  disengage  from  the 
tangle  of  events  the  true  historical  significance  of  the 
Revolution.  Only  one  volume,  L'Ancien  Regime  et  la 
Revolution,  was  accomplished.  It  can  stand  alone  as  a 
work  of  capital  importance.  In  the  great  upheaval  he 
saw  that  all  was  not  progress ;  the  centralisation  of 
power  under  the  old  regime  remained,  and  was  rendered 
even  more  formidable  than  before ;  the  sentiment  of 
equality  continued  to  advance  in  its  inevitable  career ; 
unhappily  the  spirit  of  liberty  was  not  always  its  com- 
panion, its  moderator,  or  its  guide. 

ADOLPHE  THIERS  (1797-1877)  was  engaged  at  the  same 
time  as  Mignet,  his  lifelong  friend,  upon  a  history  of  the 
French  Revolution  (1823-27).  The  same  liberal  prin- 
ciples were  held  in  common  by  the  young  authors.  Their 
methods  differed  widely  :  Mignet's  orderly  and  compact 
narration  was  luminous  through  its  skilful  arrangement ; 
Thiers'  Histoire  was  copious,  facile,  brilliant,  more  just 
in  its  general  conception  than  exact  in  statement,  a 
plea  for  revolutionary  patriotism  as  against  the  royalist 
reaction  of  the  day,  and  not  without  influence  in  pre- 
paring the  spirit  of  the  country  for  the  approaching  Re- 
volution of  July.  His  Histoire  du  Consulat  et  de  I' Empire 
(1845-62)  is  the  great  achievement  of  Thiers'  maturity; 
journalist,  orator,  minister  of  state,  until  he  became  the 
chief  of  stricken  France  in  1871  his  highest  claim  to  be 
remembered  was  this  vast  record  of  his  country's  glory. 
He  had  an  appetite  for  facts ;  no  detail — the  price  of 
bread,  of  soap,  of  candles — was  a  matter  of  indifference 
to  him  ;  he  could  not  show  too  many  things,  or  show 
them  too  clearly  ;  his  supreme  quality  was  intelligence  ; 
his  passion  was  the  pride  of  patriotism  ;  his  foible  was  the 
vanity  of  military  success,  the  zeal  of  a  chauvinist.  He 


418  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

was  a  liberal ;  but  Napoleon  summed  up  France,  and 
won  her  battles,  therefore  Napoleon,  the  great  captain, 
who  ''made  war  with  his  genius  and  politics  with  his 
passions,"  must  be  for  ever  magnified.  The  coup  d'etat 
of  the  third  Napoleon  owed  a  debt  to  the  liberal  his- 
torian who  had  reconstructed  the  Napoleonic  legend. 
The  campaigns  and  battle-pieces  of  Thiers  are  unsur- 
passed in  their  kind.  His  style  in  narrative  is  facile, 
abundant,  animated,  and  so  transparent  that  nothing 
seems  to  intervene  between  the  object  and  the  reader 
who  has  become  a  spectator  ;  a  style  negligent  at  times, 
and  even  incorrect,  adding  no  charm  of  its  own  to  a 
lucid  presentation  of  things. 

JULES  MICHELET,  the  greatest  imaginative  restorer  of 
the  past,  the  greatest  historical  interpreter  of  the  soul 
of  ancient  France,  was  born  in  1798  in  Paris,  an  infant 
seemingly  too  frail  and  nervous  to  remain  alive.  His 
early  years  gave  him  experience,  brave  and  pathetic,  of 
the  hardships  of  the  poor.  His  father,  an  unsuccessful 
printer,  often  found  it  difficult  to  procure  bread  or  fire 
for  his  household ;  but  he  resolved  that  his  son  should 
receive  an  education.  The  boy,  of  a  fine  and  sensitive 
organisation,  knew  cold  and  hunger ;  he  watched  his 
mother  toiling,  and  from  day  to  day  declining  in  health. 
Two  sources  of  consolation  he  found — the  Imitation, 
which  told  him  of  a  Divine  refuge  from  sorrow,  and  the 
Museum  of  French  monuments,  which  made  him  forget 
all  present  distress  in  visions  of  the  vanished  centuries. 
Mocked  and  persecuted  by  his  schoolfellows,  he  never 
lost  courage,  and  had  the  joy  of  rewarding  his  parents 
with  the  cross  won  by  his  schoolboy  theme.  In  happy 
country  days  his  aunt  Alexis  told  him  legendary  tales, 
and  read  to  him  the  old  chroniclers  of  France.  Michelet's 


-MICHELET  419 

vocation  was  before  long  revealed,  and  its  summons  was 
irresistible. 

In  1827  he  published  his  earliest  works,  the  Precis  de 
I'  Histoire  Moderne,  a  modest  survey  of  a  wide  field,  in 
which  genius  illuminated  scholarship,  and  a  translation 
of  the  Scienza  Nuova  of  Vico,  the  master  who  impressed 
him  with  the  thought  that  humanity  is  in  a  constant  pro- 
cess of  creation  under  the  influence  of  the  Divine  ideas. 
The  Histoire  Romaine  and  the  Introduction  a  I' Histoire 
Universelle  followed  ;  the  latter  a  little  book,  written  with 
incredible  ardour  under  the  inspiration  of  the  days  of 
July.  His  friend  Quinet  had  taught  him  to  see  in  his- 
tory an  ever-broadening  combat  for  freedom — in  Miche- 
let's  words,  "an  eternal  July,"  and  the  exposition  of  this 
idea  was  of  the  nature  of  a  philosophical  entrancement. 

A  teacher  at  the  Ecole  Normale,  appointed  chief  of 
the  historical  section  of  the  National  Archives  in  1831, 
Guizot's  substitute  at  the  Sorbonne  in  1833,  professor 
of  history  and  morals  at  the  College  de  France  in  1838, 
Michelet  lived  in  and  for  the  life  of  his  people  and  of 
his  land.  The  Histoire  de  France,  begun  in  1830,  was 
completed  thirty-seven  years  later.  After  the  disasters  of 
the  war  of  1870-71,  with  failing  strength  the  author 
resumed  his  labours,  endeavouring  to  add,  as  it  were,  an 
appendix  on  the  nineteenth  century. 

A  passionate  searcher  among  original  sources,  pub- 
lished and  unpublished,  handling  documents  as  if  they 
were  things  of  flesh  and  blood,  seeing  the  outward  forms 
of  existence  with  the  imaginative  eye,  pressing  through 
these  to  the  soul  of  each  successive  epoch,  possessed  by 
an  immense  pity  for  the  obscure  generations  of  human 
toilers,  having,  more  than  almost  any  other  modern  writer, 
Virgil's  gift  of  tears,  ardent  in  admiration,  ardent  in 


420  FRENCH   LITERATURE 

indignation,  with  ideas  impregnated  by  emotions,  and 
emotions  quickened  by  ideas,  Michelet  set  himself  to 
resuscitate  the  buried  past.  It  seemed  to  him  that  his 
eminent  predecessors — Guizot,  Mignet,  Thiers,  Thierry — 
had  each  envisaged  history  from  some  special  point  of 
view.  Each  had  too  little  of  the  outward  body  or  too 
little  of  the  inward  soul  of  history.  Michelet  dared  to 
hope  that  a  resurrection  of  the  integral  life  of  the  dead 
centuries  was  possible.  All  or  nothing  was  his  word. 
It  was  a  bold  venture,  but  it  was  a  venture,  or  rather  an 
act,  of  faith.  Thierry  had  been  tyrannised  by  the  idea 
of  the  race  :  the  race  is  much,  but  the  people  does  not 
march  in  the  air ;  it  has  a  geographical  basis  ;  it  draws 
its  nutriment  from  a  particular  soil.  Michelet,  at  the 
moment  of  his  narrative  when  France  began  to  have  a 
life  distinct  from  Germany,  enters  upon  a  survey  of  its 
geography,  in  which  the  physiognomy  and  the  genius 
of  each  region  are  studied  as  if  each  were  a  separate 
living  creature,  and  the  character  of  France  itself  is  dis- 
covered in  the  cohesion  or  the  unity  of  its  various  parts. 
Reaching  the  tenth  and  eleventh  centuries,  he  feels  the 
sadness  of  their  torpor  and  their  violence  ;  ye't  humanity 
was  living,  and  soon  in  the  enthusiasm  of  Gothic  art  and 
the  enthusiasm  of  the  Crusades  the  sacred  aspirations  of 
the  soul  had  their  manifestation.  At  the  close  of  the 
mediaeval  period  everything  seems  to  droop  and  decay  : 
no  !  it  was  then,  during  the  Hundred  Years'  War,  that 
the  national  consciousness  was  born,  and  patriotism  was 
incarnated  in  an  armed  shepherdess,  child  of  the  people. 
By  the  thirteenth  year  of  his  labours — 1843 — Michelet 
had  traversed  the  mediaeval  epoch,  and  reached  the  close 
of  the  reign  of  Louis  XI.  There  he  paused.  Seeing  one 
day  high  on  the  tower  of  Reims  Cathedral,  below  which 


MICHELET  421 

the  kings  of  France  received  their  consecration,  a  group 
or  garland  of  tortured  and  mutilated  figures  carved  in 
stone,  the  thought  possessed  him  that  the  soul  and  faith 
of  the  people  should  be  confirmed  within  his  own  soul 
before  he  could  trust  himself  to  treat  of  the  age  of  the 
great  monarchy.  He  leaped  at  once  the  intervening 
centuries,  and  was  at  work  during  eight  years — from 
1845  to  1853 — on  the  French  Revolution.  He  found  a 
hero  for  his  revolutionary  epic  in  the  people. 

The  temper  of  1848  was  hardly  the  temper  in 
which,  the  earlier  Revolution  could  be  judiciously  in- 
vestigated. Michelet  and  Quinet  had  added  to  their 
democratic  zeal  the  passions  connected  with  an  anti- 
clerical campaign.  The  violence  of  liberalism  was  dis- 
played in  Des  Jesuites,  and  Du  Pretre,  de  la  Femme  et  de  la 
Famille.  When  the  historian  returned  to  the  sixteenth 
century  his  spirit  had  undergone  a  change  :  he  adored 
the  Middle  Ages  ;  but  was  it  not  the  period  of  the  domi- 
nation of  the  Church,  and  how  could  it  be  other  than 
evil  ?  He  could  no  longer  be  a  mere  historian  ;  he 
must  also  be  a  prophet.  The  volumes  which  treat  of 
the  Reformation,  the  Renaissance,  the  wars  of  religion, 
are  as  brilliant  as  earlier  volumes,  but  they  are  less 
balanced  and  less  coherent.  The  equilibrium  between 
Michelet's  intellect  and  his  imagination,  between  his 
ideas  and  his  passions,  was  disturbed,  if  not  destroyed. 

Michelet,  who  had  been  deprived  of  his  chair  in  the 
College  de  France,  lost  also  his  post  in  the  Archives 
upon  his  refusal,  in  1852,  to  swear  allegiance  to  the 
Emperor.  Near  Nantes  in  his  tempest-beaten  home, 
near  Genoa  in  a  fold  of  the  Apennines,  where  he  watched 
the  lizards  sleep  or  slide,  a  great  appeasement  came  upon 
his  spirit.  He  had  interpreted  the  soul  of  the  people  ;  he 


422  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

would  now  interpret  the  soul  of  humbler  kinsfolk — the 
bird,  the  insect ;  he  would  interpret  the  inarticulate  soul 
of  the  mountain  and  the  sea.  He  studied  other  docu- 
ments— the  documents  of  nature — with  a  passion  of  love, 
read  their  meanings,  and  mingled  as  before  his  own 
spirit  with  theirs.  L'Ozseau,  L'  Insecte,  La  Mer,  La  Mon- 
tagne,  are  canticles  in  prose  by  a  learned  lover  of  the 
external  world,  rather  than  essays  in  science ;  often  ex- 
travagant in  style,  often  extreme  in  sentiment,  and  un- 
controlled in  imagination,  but  always  the  betrayals  of 
genius. 

Michelet's  faults  as  an  historian  are  great,  and  such 
as  readily  strike  an  English  reader.  His  rash  generali- 
sations, his  lyrical  outbreaks,  his  Pindaric  excitement, 
his  verbiage  assuming  the  place  of  ideas,  his  romantic 
excess,  his  violence  in  ecclesiastical  affairs,  his  hostility 
to  our  country,  his  mysticism  touched  with  sensuality, 
his  insistence  on  physiological  details,  his  quick  and 
irregular  utterance — these  trouble  at  times  his  imagi- 
native insight,  and  mar  his  profound  science  in  docu- 
ments. He  died  at  Hyeres  in  1874,  hoping  that  God 
would  grant  him  reunion  with  his  lost  ones,  and  the 
joys  promised  to  those  who  have  sought  and  loved. 

EDGAR  QUINET  (1803-1875),  the  friend  and  brother- 
in-arms  of  Michelet  in  his  attack  upon  the  Jesuits,  born 
at  Bourg,  of  a  Catholic  father  and  a  Protestant  mother, 
approached  the  study  of  literature  and  history  with  that 
tendency  to  large  vues  d' ensemble  which  was  natural  to 
his  mind,  and  which  had  been  strengthened  by  disciple- 
ship  to  Herder.  Happy  in  temper,  sound  of  conscience, 
generous  of  heart,  he  illuminated  many  subjects,  and 
was  a  complete  master  of  none.  A  poet  of  lofty  inten- 
tions, in  his  Ahasverus  (1833) — the  wandering  Jew,  type 


EDGAR  QUINET  423 

of  humanity  in  its  endless  Odyssey — in  his  Napoleon,  his 
Promethee,  his  vast  encyclopaedic  allegory  Merlin  I'En- 
chanteur  (1860),  his  poetry  lacked  form,  and  yielded  itself 
to  the  rhetoric  of  the  intellect. 

In  the  Genie  des  Religions  Quinet  endeavoured  to 
exhibit  the  religious  idea  as  the  germinative  power  of 
civilisation,  giving  its  special  character  to  the  political 
and  social  idea.  La  Revolution,  which  is  perhaps  his 
most  important  work,  attempts  to  replace  the  Revolu- 
tionary hero-worship,  the-  Girondin  and  Jacobin  legends, 
by  a  faithful  interpretation  of  the  meaning  of  events. 
The  principles  of  modern  society  and  the  principles  of 
the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  Quinet  regarded  as  incap- 
able of  conciliation.  In  the  incompetence  of  the  leaders 
to  perceive  and  apply  this  truth,  and  in  the  fatal  logic  of 
their  violent  and  anarchic  methods,  lay,  as  he  believed, 
the  causes  of  the  failure  which  followed  the  bright  hopes 
of  1789.  In  1848  Quinet  was  upon  the  barricades  ;  the 
Empire  drove  him  into  exile.  In  his  elder  years,  like 
Michelet,  he  found  a  new  delight  in  the  study  of  nature. 
La  Creation  (1870)  exhibits  the  science  of  nature  and 
that  of  human  history  as  presenting  the  same  laws  and 
requiring  kindred  methods.  It  closes  with  the  prophecy 
of  science  that  creation  is  not  yet  fully  accomplished,  and 
that  a  nobler  race  will  enter  into  the  heritage  of  our 
humanity. 

II 

Literary  criticism  in  the  eighteenth  century  had  been 

the    criticism    of   taste  or  the  criticism  of  dogma ;    in 

the  nineteenth  century  it  became  naturalistic — a  natural 

history  of  individual  minds  and  their  products,  a  natural 

28 


424  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

history  of  works  of  art  as  formed  or  modified  by  social, 
political,  and  moral  environments,  and  by  the  tendencies 
of  races.  Such  criticism  must  inevitably  have  followed 
the  growth  of  the  comparative  study  of  literatures  in  an 
age  dominated  by  the  scientific  spirit.  If  we  are  to  name 
any  single  writer  as  its  founder,  we  must  name  Mme.  de 
Stae'l.  The  French  nation,  she  explained  in  L '  Allemagne, 
inclines  towards  what  is  classical ;  the  Teutonic  nations 
incline  towards  what  is  romantic.  She  cares  not  to  say 
whether  classical  or  romantic  art  should  be  preferred;  it 
is  enough  to  show  that  the  difference  of  taste  results  not 
from  accidental  causes,  but  from  the  primitive  sources  of 
imagination  and  of  thought. 

The  historical  tendency,  proceeding  from  the  eigh- 
teenth century,  influenced  alike  the  study  of  philosophy, 
of  politics,  and  of  literature.  While  Cousin  gave  an  his- 
torical interpretation  of  philosophy,  and  Guizot  applied 
history  to  the  exposition  of  politics,  a  third  eminent 
professor,  ABEL-FRANCOIS  VILLEMAIN  (1790-1870)  was 
illuminating  literature  with  the  light  of  history.  An  ac- 
complished classical  scholar,  a  student  of  English,  Italian, 
and  Spanish  authors,  Villemain,  in  his  Tableau  de  la  Lit- 
terature  au  Moyen  Age,  and  his  more  admirable  Tableau  de 
la  Litte"rature  au  X  VIIIe  Siecle,  viewed  a  wide  prospect, 
and  could  not  apply  a  narrow  rule  to  the  measurement 
of  all  that  he  saw.  He  did  not  formulate  a  method  of 
criticism  ;  but  instinctively  he  directed  criticism  towards 
history.  He  perceived  the  correspondence  between 
literary  products  and  the  other  phenomena  of  the  age; 
he  observed  the  movement  in  the  spirit  of  a  period ;  he 
passed  from  country  to  country ;  he  made  use  of  biog- 
raphy as  an  aid  in  the  study  of  letters.  His  learning  was  at 
times  defective  ;  his  views  often  superficial ;  he  suffered 


D£SIR£  NISARD  425 

from  his  desire  to  entertain  his  audience  or  to  capture 
them  by  rhetoric.  Yet  Villemain  served  letters  well,  and, 
accepted  as  a  master  by  the  young  critics  of  the  Globe,  he 
prepared  the  way  for  Sainte-Beuve. 

While  such  criticism  as  that  of  Villemain  was  main- 
tained by  Saint-Marc  Girardin  (1801-73),  professor  of 
French  poetry  at  the  Sorbonne,  the  dogmatic  or  doc- 
trinaire school  of  criticism  was  represented  with  rare 
ability  by  D£sm£  NISARD  (1806-88).  His  capital  work, 
the  Histoire.  de  la  Litterature  Fran^aise,  the  labour  of 
many  years,  is  distinguished  by  a  magisterial  application 
of  ideas  to  the  decision  of  literary  questions.  Criticism 
with  Nisard  is  not  a  natural  history  of  minds,  nor  a 
study  of  historical  developments,  so  much  as  the  judg- 
ment of  literary  art  in  the  light  of  reason.  He  confronts 
each  book  on  which  he  pronounces  judgment  with  that 
ideal  of  its  species  which  he  has  formed  in  his  own  mind : 
he  compares  it  with  the  ideal  of  the  genius  of  France, 
which  attains  its  highest  ends  rather  through  discipline 
than  through  freedom  ;  he  compares  it  with  the  ideal  of 
the  French  language  ;  finally,  he  compares  it  with  the 
ideal  of  humanity  as  seen  in  the  best"  literature  of  the 
world.  According  to  the  result  of  the  comparison  he 
delivers  condemnation  or  awards  the  crown.  In  French 
literature,  at  its  best,  he  perceives  a  marvellous  equi- 
librium of  the  faculties  under  the  control  of  reason  ; 
it  applies  general  ideas  to  life  ;  it  avoids  individual 
caprice  ;  it  dreads  the  chimeras  of  imagination  ;  it 
is  eminently  rational ;  it  embodies  ideas  in  just  and 
measured  form.  Such  literature  Nisard  found  in  the 
great  age  of  Louis  XIV.  Certain  gains  there  may  have 
been  in  the  eighteenth  century,  but  these  gains  were 
more  than  counterbalanced  by  losses.  To  disprove  the 


426  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

saying  that  there  is  no  disputing  about  tastes,  to  estab- 
lish an  order  and  a  hierarchy  in  letters,  to  regulate 
intellectual  pleasures,  was  Nisard's  aim  ;  but  in  attempt- 
ing to  constitute  an  exact  science  founded  upon  general 
principles,  he  too  often  derived  those  principles  from 
the  attractions  and  repulsions  of  his  individual  taste. 
Criticism  retrograded  in  his  hands  ;  yet,  in  retrograding, 
it  took  up  a  strong  position  :  the  influence  of  such  a 
teacher  was  not  untimely  when  facile  sympathies  re- 
quired the  guidance  or  the  check  of  a  director. 

The  admirable  critic  of  the  romantic  school,  CHARLES- 
AUGUSTIN  SAINTE-BEUVE  (1804-69),  developed,  as  time 
went  on,  into  the  great  critic  of  the  naturalistic  method. 
In  his  Tableau  de  la  Poesie  Franqaise  au  XVIe  Siecle  he 
found  ancestors  for  the  romantic  poets  as  much  older 
than  the  ancestors  of  classical  art  in  France  as  Ronsard 
is  older  than  Malherbe.  Wandering  endlessly  from 
author  to  author  in  his  Portraits  Littt'raires  and  Por- 
traits Contemporains,  he  studied  in  all  its  details  what 
we  may  term  the  physiology  of  each.  The  long  research 
of  spirits  connected  with  his  most  sustained  work,  Port- 
Royal,  led  him  to  recognise  certain  types  or  families 
under  which  the  various  minds  of  men  can  be  grouped 
and  classified.  During  a  quarter  of  a  century  he  inves- 
tigated, distinguished,  defined  in  the  vast  collection  of 
little  monographs  which  form  the  Causerics  du  Liindi 
and  the  Nouveaux  Lundis.  They  formed,  as  it  were,  a 
natural  history  of  intellects  and  temperaments ;  they 
established  a  new  method,  and  illustrated  that  method 
by  a  multitude  of  examples. 

Never  was  there  a  more  mobile  spirit ;  but  he  was  as 
exact  and  sure-footed  as  he  was  mobile.  When  we  have 
allowed  for  certain  personal  jealousies  or  hostilities,  and 


SAINTE-BEUVE  427 

for  an  excessive  attraction  towards  what  may  be  called 
the  morbid  anatomy  of  minds,  we  may  give  our  con- 
fidence with  scarcely  a  limit  to  the  psychologist  critic 
Sainte-Beuve.  Poet,  novelist,  student  of  medicine,  scep- 
tic, believer,  socialist,  imperialist — he  traversed  every 
region  of  ideas ;  as  soon  as  he  understood  each  posi- 
tion he  was  free  to  leave  it  behind.  He  did  not  pretend 
to  reduce  criticism  to  a  science  ;  he  hoped  that  at  length, 
as  the  result  of  numberless  observations,  something  like 
a  science  might  come  into  existence.  Meanwhile  he 
would  cultivate  the  relative  and  distrust  the  absolute. 
He  would  study  literary  products  through  the  persons 
of  their  authors  ;  he  would  examine  each  detail ;  he 
would  inquire  into  the  physical  characteristics  of  the 
subject  of  his  investigation  ;  view  him  through  his  an- 
cestry and  among  his  kinsfolk ;  observe  him  in  the 
process  of  education  ;  discover  him  among  his  friends 
and  contemporaries  ;  note  the  moment  when  his  genius 
first  unfolded  itself ;  note  the  moment  when  it  was  first 
touched  with  decay  ;  approach  him  through  admirers 
and  disciples  ;  approach  him  through  his  antagonists  or 
those  whom  he  repelled ;  and  at  last,  if  that  were  pos- 
sible, find  some  illuminating  word  which  resumes  the 
results  of  a  completed  study.  There  is  no  "  code  Sainte- 
Beuve"  by  which  off-hand  to  pronounce  literary  judg- 
ments ;  a  method  of  Sainte-Beuve  there  is,  and  it  is  the 
method  which  has  best  served  the  study  of  literature  in 
the  nineteenth  century. 


Here  this  survey  of  a  wide  field  finds  its  limit.  The 
course  of  French  literature  since  1850  may  be  studied  in 
current  criticism  ;  it  does  not  yet  come  within  the  scope 


428  FRENCH  LITERATURE 

of  literary  history.  The  product  of  these  years  has  been 
manifold  and  great ;  their  literary  importance  is  attested 
by  the  names — among  many  others — of  Leconte  de  Lisle, 
Sully  Prudhomme,  Verlaine,  in  non  -  dramatic  poetry ; 
of  Augier  and  the  younger  Dumas  in  the  theatre  ;  of 
Flaubert,  Edmond  and  Jules  de  Goncourt,  Zola,  Daudet, 
Bonrget,  Pierre  Loti,  Anatole  France,  in  fiction  ;  of  Taine 
and  Renan  in  historical  study  and  criticism ;  of  Fromentin 
in  the  criticism  of  art ;  of  Scherer,  Brunetiere,  Faguet, 
Lemaitre,  in  the  criticism  of  literature. 

The  dominant  fact,  if  we  discern  it  aright,  has  been 
the  scientific  influence,  turning  poetry  from  romantic 
egoism  to  objective  art,  directing  the  novel  and  the 
drama  to  naturalism  and  to  the  study  of  social  environ- 
ments, informing  history  and  criticism  with  the  spirit 
of  curiosity,  and  prompting  research  for  laws  of  evolu- 
tion. Whether  the  spiritualist  tendency  observable  at 
the  present  moment  be  a  symptom  of  languor  and  fatigue, 
or  the  indication  of  a  new  moral  energy,  future  years  will 
determine. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 


THE  following  notes  are  designed  as  an  indication  of  some  books 
which  may  be  useful  to  students. 

Of  the  many  Histories  of  French  Literature  the  fullest  and  most 
trustworthy  is  that  at  present  in  course  of  publication  under  the 
editorship  of  M-.  Petit  de  Julleville,  Histoire  de  la  Langue  et  de  la 
Litterature  franc^aise  (A.  Colin  et  Cie.).  M.  Lanson's  Histoire  de 
la  Litterature  fran$aise  should  be  in  the  hands  of  every  student, 
and  this  may  be  supplemented  by  M.  Lintilhac's  Litterature 
fratifaise  (2  vols.). 

The  works  of  Mr.  Saintsbury,  Ge*ruzez,  Demogeot,  are  widely 
known,  and  have  proved  useful  during  many  years.  Much  may 
be  learnt  and  learnt  pleasantly  from  Paul  Albert's  volumes  on  the 
literature  of  the  sixteenth,  seventeenth,  eighteenth,  and  nine- 
teenth centuries.  Two  volumes  out  of  five  of  M.  Charles  Gidel's 
Histoire  de  la  Litterature  fran$aise  (Lemerre)  are  occupied  with 
literature  from  1815  to  1886.  M.  Hermann  Pergamini's  Histoire 
generate  de  la  Litterature  francaise  (Alcan)  sometimes  gives  fresh 
and  interesting  views.  For  a  short  school  history  by  an  accom- 
plished scholar,  none  is  better  than  M.  Petit  de  Julleville's  Histoire 
de  la  Litterature  franfatse,  which,  in  555  pages,  packs  a  great  deal 
of  information.  The  Histoire  elementaire  de  la  Litterature  fran- 
(aise,  by  M.  Jean  Fleury,  has  been  popular ;  it  tells  much  of  the 
contents  of  great  books,  and  makes  no  assumption  that  the  reader  is 
already  acquainted  with  them.  Dr.  Warren's  A  Primer  of  French 
Literature  (Heath,  Boston,  U.S.A.)  is  well  proportioned  and  well 
arranged,  but  it  has  room  for  little  more  than  names,  dates,  and 
the  briefest  characterisations.  Dr.  Wells's  Modern  French  Litera- 
ture (Roberts,  Boston,  U.S.A.)  sketches  French  .literature  to 


430  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

Chateaubriand,  and  treats  with  considerable  fulness  the  literature 
from  Chateaubriand  and  Mme.  de  Stael  to  the  present  time.  For 
the  present  century  M.  G.  Pellissier's  Le  Mouvement  litteraire  au 
XIX'  Stick  is  valuable. 

Of  elder  histories  that  by  Nisard  is  by  far  the  most  distinguished, 
the  work  of  a  scholar  and  a  thinker.  (See  p.  425  of  the  present 
volume.) 

The  student  will  find  Merlet's  Etudes  littcraircs  sur  les 
Classiques  francais  (2  vols.),  revised  and  enlarged  by  M.  Lintilhac, 
highly  instructive ;  the  second  volume  is  wholly  occupied  with 
Corneille,  Racine,  and  Moliere. 

For  the  history  of  the  French  theatre  the  best  introduction  is 
M.  Petit  de  Julleville's  Le  Theatre  en  France ;  it  may  be  sup- 
plemented by  M.  Brunetiere's  Les  Epoques  du  Theatre  francais. 
Learning  wide  and  exact,  and  original  thought,  characterise  all  the 
work  of  M.  Brunetiere;  each  of  his  many  volumes  should  be 
searched  by  the  student  for  what  he  may  need.  The  studies  of 
M.  Faguet  on  the  writers  of  the  sixteenth,  seventeenth,  eighteenth, 
and  nineteenth  centuries  are  the  work  of  a  critic  who  is  penetrat- 
ing in  his  psychological  study  of  authors,  and  who,  just  or  unjust, 
is  always  suggestive.  For  numberless  little  monographs  the  student 
may  turn  to  Sainte-Beuve.  Monographs  on  a  larger  scale  will  be 
found  in  the  admirable  series  of  Grands  Ecrivains  francais 
(Hachette);  the  Classiques  populaires  (Lecene,  Oudin  et  Cie.) 
are  in  some  instances  no  less  scholarly.  The  writings  of  Scherer, 
of  M.  Jules  Lemaitre,  and  of  M.  Anatole  France  are  especially 
valuable  on  nineteenth-century  literature.  The  best  study  of 
French  historical  literature  is  Professor  Flint's  The  PhilosopJiy  of 
History  (1893). 

Provided  with  such  books  as  these  the  student  will  hardly  need 
the  general  histories  of  French  literature  by  German  writers.  I 
may  name  Prof.  Bornhak's  Geschichte  der  Franzosischen  Literafur, 
and  the  more  popular  history  by  Engel  (4th  ed.,  1 897).  Lotheissen's 
Geschichte  der  Franzosischen  Literatur  im  XVII.  JalirJiundert 
seems  to  me  the  best  book  on  the  period.  The  monographs  in 
German  are  numberless. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  431 

The  editions  of  authors  in  the  Grands  Ecrivains  de  la  France 
are  of  the  highest  authority.  The  best  anthology  of  French  poetry 
is  Crepet's  Les  Poetes  francais  (4  vols.).  Small  anthologies  of 
French  poetry  since  the  fifteenth  century,  and  of  French  lyrical 
poets  of  the  nineteenth  century,  are  published  by  Lemerre. 

The  list  which  follows  is  taken  partly  from  books  which  I  have 
used  in  writing  this  volume,  partly  from  the  Bibliography  in  M. 
Lintilhac's  Histoire  de  la  Littcrature  francaisc.  To  name  English 
writers  and  books  seems  unnecessary. 

THE   MIDDLE   AGES 

Histoire    litterairc   de   la   France  (a    vast    repertory    on    mediaeval 

literature). 

GASTON  PARIS.     La  Literature  fran^aise  an  moyen  Age.     1890. 
AUBERTIN.     Hist,  de  la  Langue  et  de  la  Lift,  fran^aises  au  moyen 

Age.     2  vols.     1883. 

G.  PARIS.     La  Poc'sie  du  moyen  Age.     2  vols.     1887. 
LEON  GAUTIER.      Les  Epopees  francaises.      2nd   edition.      4  vols. 

1878-94. 
J.  BEDIER.     Les  Fabliaux,  Etudes  de  Lilt,  populaire  et  d^  Histoire  lilt. 

du  moyen  Age.     1895. 

L.  SUDRE.     Les  Sources  du  Roman  de  Renart.     1893. 
LENIENT.     La  Satire  en  France  au  moyen  Age.     1883. 
E.  LANGLOIS.     Origincs  et  Sources  du  Roman  de  la  Rose.     1890. 
A.    DEBIDOUR.      Les    Chroniqueurs.       2    vols.       1893.       (Classiques 

populaire  s.} 

A.  JEAN  ROY.     Les  Origines  de  la  Poesie  lyrique  en  France.     1889. 
C  LED  AT.     Rutebcuf.     1891.     (Granas  Ecrivains  fr.} 
MARY  DARMESTETER.     Froissart.     1894.     (Grands  Ecrivains  fr.} 
A.  SARRADIN.     Eustache  Dcschamps.     1879. 
C.  BEAUFILS.     Etude  sur  la  Vie  et  les  Ponies  de  Charles  d ^  Orleans. 

1861. 

A.  CAMPAUX.     Franqois  Villon.     1859. 
A.  LONGNON.     Etude  biographique  sur.  Fr.  Villon.     1877. 
LECOY  DE  LA  MARCHE.    La  Chairefr.  au  moyen  Age.     1886. 
PETIT  DE  JULLEVILLE.    Les  Mystires.     2  vols.     1880. 

„  „  Les  Come'diens  en  Fr.  au  moyen  Age.     1885. 

„  „  La   Come'die  et   les  Mceurs  en   France  au 

moyen  Age.     1886. 


432  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

PETIT  DE  JULLEVILLE.  Repertoire  du  Theatre  comique  en  France  au 

moyen  Age.     1885. 

FAGUET.    XVI*  Siecle.  1894.     (On  Commines.) 

MERLET.      Etudes  litt.  (On  Villehardouin,   Froissart,   Commines.) 

Edited  by  Lintilhac.     1894. 

L.  CLEDAT.     La  Potsie  du  moyen  Age.     1893.      (Classiques  popu- 

laires.} 


SIXTEENTH    CENTURY 

A.  DARMESTETER  ET  A.  HATZFEI.D.     Le  XVIe  Siccle  en  France. 

1878. 

FAGUET.    XVIe  Siccle.     1894. 
SAINTE-BEUVE.     Tableau  historique  et  critique  de  la  Pocsie  ft:  au 

XVP  Siccle. 

L.  FEUGERE.     Caracteres  et  Portraits  lilt,  du  XVI'  Siecle.     1859. 
EGGER.     L'Helle'nisme  en  France.     1 869. 
FAGUET.     La  Tragtdie  fr.  au  XVI*  Siecle.     1883. 
E.  CHASLES.     La  Comddie  en  France  au  XVI*  Siccle,     1862. 
E.  BOURCIEZ.     Les  Mceurs polies  et  la  Litt.  de  Cour  sous  Henri  If. 

1886. 

P.  STAFFER.    Rabelais.     1889. 
R.  MILLET.     Rabelais.     1892.     (Grands  Ecrivainsfr.} 

E.  GEBHART.     Rabelais,  la  Renaissance  et  la  Reforme.     1895. 
HAAG  ET  BORDIER.    La  France  protestante.     2nd  edition.     (Vols. 

i.-vi.  have  appeared.) 

F.  BuNGENER.     Calvin,  sa  Vie,  son  (Euvre  et  ses  Ecrits.     1862. 

A.  BiRSCH-HlRSCHFELD.  Gcsckichte  der  Franzbsischen  Littcratur, 
seit  Anfang  des  XVI.  Jahrhunderts.  Erster  Band  :  Das  Zeitalter 
der  Renaissance.  1 889. 

EDERT.  Entivickelungs-Geschichte  der  Fr.  Tragodie,  vornlimlich  i»i 
X  VI.  Jahrhundert.  1856. 

F.  GODEFROY.     Histoire  de  la  Litt.fr.  depuis  le  XVI6  Siecle  jusqu'a 

nos  Jours.     1878. 

G.  MERLET.     Les  grands  Ecri-vains  du  XVI*  Sticle.     1875. 

C.  LENIENT.  La  Satire  en  France,  ou  la  Litt.  militanle  au  XVI*  Siecle. 

1886. 

E.  COUGNY.     Guillaume  du  Vair.     1857. 
A.  SAYOUS.     Etudes  litt.  sur  les  Ecrivains  fr.  de  la  Reformation. 

1854. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  433 

A.  VINET.     Moralities  des  X VP  et  XVIP  Slides.     1 859. 
P.  STAFFER.     Montaigne.     1895.     (Grands  Ecrivains  fr.~) 
P.  BONNEFON.     Montaigne,  V Homme  et  PCEuvre.     1893. 
SAINT-MARC  GIRARDIN.     Tableau  de  la  Lift.  //-.  au  XVI*  Sticle. 

1862. 

CH.  NORMAND.     Monhtc.     (Classiques  populaires.} 
G.  Bizos.     Ronsard.     (Classiques  populaircs.} 
GERUZEZ.    Essais  d>  Histoire  I  iff.     1853. 
P.  MORILLOT.  Discourssurla  Vie  et  les  CEuvres  d'Agrippa  d'A ubigne". 

1884. 
H.  PERGAMINI.     La  Satire  au  XVI*  Siecle  et  les  Tragiques  d'Agrippa 

d'Aubigne'.     1881. 


SEVENTEENTH    CENTURY 

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Jahrhundert.     2  vols.     1897. 

A.  DUPUY.     Histoire  de  la  Litt.fr.  au  XVIP  Siecle.     1892. 
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LE  Due  DE  BROGLIE.     Malherbe.     1897.     (Grands  Ecrivains  fr} 
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Mme.  de  Sable.     1882. 
Jacqueline  Pascal.     1878. 
Lajeunesse  de  Mmc.  de  Longueville.     1853. 
At  me.  de  Longiieville  et  la  Fronde.     1859. 

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1884. 

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„  Les  Maitres  de  la  Critique  au  X  VIP  Sihle.     \  889. 

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E.  ROY.     Etude  sur  Charles  Sorel.     \  893. 
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lt  Le    Roman    en    France    depuis    1610  jusqu'a    nos 

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G.  BOISSIER.     Saint- Simon.     1892.     (Grands  Ecrivains fr.} 
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A.  SOREL.     Montesquieu.     1889.     {Grands  Ecrivains  fr.) 
H.  LEBASTEUR.     Buffon.     1888.     (Classiques  populaires.) 
M.  PALEOLOGUE.      Vauvenargues.     1890.     (Grands  Ecrivains  fr.) 
G.  DESNOIRESTERRES.      Voltaire  et  la  Social/  au  XVIII*  Siede. 

8  vols.     1871-76. 

E.  FAGUET.      Voltaire.     1895.     (Classiques  poptdaires) 
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1888. 
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G.  LARROUMET.     Marivaux,  sa  Vie  et  ses  CEuvres.     1882. 
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J.  BERTRAND.     UAlembert.     1889.     (Grands  Ecrivains  fr!) 
L.  SAY.     Turgot.     1889.     (Grands  Ecrivains  fr.) 

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E.  ROUSSE.     Mirabeau.     1891.     (Grands  Ecrivains  fr.) 
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436  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

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G.  MERLET.     Tableau  de  la  Litt.fr.  1800-1815.     1883. 
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A.  SOREL.     Mine,  de  Stael.     1893.     (Grands  Ecrivains  fr?) 
G.  BRANDES.      Die  Hauptstromungen  der  Litteralur  des  19  Jahr- 

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E.  FAGUET.     Politiques  et  Moralistes  du  XIX*  Siecle.     1891. 
G.  PELLISSIER.     Le  Mouvement  litteraire  au  XIX*  Siecle.     1893. 
TH.  GAUTIER.     Histoire  de  Romantisme.     1874. 
E.  ROD.     Lamartine.     1893.     (Classiques  populaires) 
E.  DESCHANEL.    Lamartine.    2  vols.     1893. 
E.  EIRE.     Victor  Hugo  avant  1830.     1883. 
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M.  PALEOLOGUE.     Alfred de  Vigny.     1891.     (Grands  Ecrivains  fr.) 
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E.  ROD.     Stendhal.     1892.     (Grands  Ecrivains  fr.) 

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INDEX 


ABONDANCE,  Jean  d',  75 

Adam  de  la  Halle,  26,  27,  72 

Alarcon,  167 

AlbeYic  de  Briancon,  17 

Alexis,  Vie  de  Saint,  4 

Amadis  des  Gaules,  23,  92 

Amis  et  Amiles,  12 

Amyot,  Jacques,  96-97 

Andrieux,  336 

Anne  of  Austria,  201 

Argenson,  Marquis  d',  304  note 

Armentieres,  Peronne  d',  59 

Arnauld,  Antoine,  153,  156-157,  184, 

185,215 

Arnauld,  Jacqueline,  155 
Arnault,  335 
Arouet,  see  Voltaire 
Aubigne1,  Agrippa  d',  112,  113,  115, 

117-119 

Aucassin  et  Nicolette,  22 
Aulnoy,  Mme.  d',  243 
Auvergne,  Martial  d',  63 

BAIF,  Antoine  de,  98,  103 
Ballanche,  357 
Baltus,  245 

Balzac,  Guez  de,  149-150,  177 
Balzac,  Honor6  de,  404-408 
Baour-Lormian,  336,  337 
Barante,  412 
Barbier,  Auguste,  391 
Barbieri,  Nicolo,  198 
Barlaam  etjoasaph,  5 
Barnave,  339 
Baron,  207,  229,  262 
Bartas,  Du,  117 


Barthele"my,  Abbe",  329 

Basoche,  La,  76 

Bassompierre,  239 

Batteux,  Charles,  306 

Baude,  Henri,  63 

Bayle,  Pierre,  243-245 

Beaulieu,  Geoffrey  de,  51 

Beaumarchais,  265,  323-325 

Bejart,  Armande,  200 

B6jart,  Madeleine,  198 

Bellay,  Jean  du,  88 

Bellay,  Joachim  du,  98,  99,  100,  104- 

i°S 

Belleau,  Remi,  98,  103-104^- 
Benedictines,  the,  254 
Benoit  de  Sainte-More,  15 
Benserade,  140,  208 
Be'ranger,  J.-P.  de,  366-367 
Ber9uire,  Pierre,  46 
Bernard,  258 
Bernard,  Saint,  44 
Bernardin  de  Saint-Pierre,  272,  325- 

329 

Bernay,  Alexandre  de,  16 
Bern  is,  258 
Bcioul,  19 
Bertaut,  Jean,  106 
Berlin,  258 

Beyle,  Henri,  366,  398-399 
Beze,  Theodore  de,  94,  107 
Bichat,  341 

Dien-Avisd,  Mal-Avisd,  72 
Blanc,  Louis,  412 
Blois,  Gui  de,  54 
Bodel,  Jean,  67 
Bodin,  Jean,  in 


438 


INDEX 


Bottle,  La,  96,  122 

Boileau,  Nicolas,  183-189,  241,  242 

Boisguillebert,  304 

Boissonade,  J.-F. ,  354 

Bolingbroke,  284 

Bonald,  Vicomte  de,  357 

Bonnet,  Charles,  302  note 

Bossuet,  Jacques-Be'nigne,  139,  153, 

202,  219-226,  233,  276 
Bouillon,  Duchesse  de,  190,  191,  214 
Bounin,  Gabriel,  107 
Bourdaloue,  202,  227 
Boursault,  207 
Brantome,  113-114 
Bretel,  Jacques,  26 
Brjzeux,  Auguste,  391 
Buchanan,  106 
Bud£,  Guillaume,  82,  87 
Buffon,  308-310,  327 
Bunbury,  Lydia,  373 
Bussy-Rabutin,  176,  179 

CABANIS,  301 

Galas,  Jean,  287 

Calvin,  Jean,  92-94 

Cam  pan,  Mme.  de,  253 

Campistron,  259 

Camus,  Bishop,  132,  141 

Cantillon,  305 

Cato,  Angelo,  56 

Caumartin,  de,  283 

Caumartin,  Mme.  de,  176 

Caylus,  Count  de,  329 

Caylus,  Mme.  de,  253 

Cent  Nouvelles  nouvelles,  66 

Chamfort,  322 

Chapelain,  Jean,   141,  147,  149,  162, 

177,  186 

Chapelle,  153,  184,  192 
Charles,  Mme.,  368 
Charron,  Pierre,  126-127 
Chartier,  Alain,  60- 61 
Chastelain,  Georges,  65 
Chateaubriand,  328,  343,  348-353 
Chatelain  de  Couci,  the,  27 
Chatelet,  Mme.  du,  285,  286 
Chaulieu,  256 


Ch6nedolle',  337 

Che'nier,  Andre',  329-331,  338 

Che'nier,  Marie-Joseph,  335,  337 

Chesterfield,  Lord,  275 

Chrestien,  116 

Chretien  de  Troyes,  17,  21 

Christine  de  Pisan,  60 

Clari,  Robert  de,  49 

Clermont,  Mdlle.  de,  275 

Collin  d'Harleville,  336 

Commines,  Philippe  de,  55-57 

Comte,  Auguste,  255,  360-361 

Condillac,  301 

Condorcet,  255,  303-304 

Confre'rie  de  la  Passion,  68,  71,  160 

Conon  de  Re'thune,  27 

Conrart,  Valentin,  147 

Constant,  Benjamin,  345,  411 

Coquillard,  63 

Coras,  214 

Corneille,  Pierre,  139,  163-170,  204 

Corneille,  Thomas,  171-172,  206 

Cotin,  186,  205 

Coulanges,  Abbe"  de,  177 

Coulanges,  Mme.  de,  179 

Courier,  Paul-Louis,  354-355 

Cousin,  Victor,  358-359 

Crebillon,  P.  J.  de,  259-260 

Cretin,  65 

Creus^  de  Lesser,  337 

Cuvier,  341 

Cuvier,  Le,  75 

Cyrano  de  Bergerac,  145-146,  197 

DACIER,  Mme.,  243 
D'Aguesseau,  299 
D'Alembert,  254,  295 
Danchet,  259 
Dancourt,  262 
Dangeau,  239 
Daniel,  254 
Danse  Macabrf,  63 
Danton,  338,  339 
Daubenton,  309 
Daunou,  411 
Daurat,  Jean,  98 
Dc'bats,  Journal  dc,  338 


• 


INDEX 


439 


De  Belloy,  261 

De  Broglie,  412 

D2ca.de  Philosophiqve,  338 

De  Fe'letz,  342 

Deffand,  Mme.  du,  253,  322 

DeToris,  221 

Delatouche,  401 

Delavigne,  Casimir,  395 

Delille,  257-258 

Ddsaugiers,  336 

De'sbordes-Valmore,  Mme.,  391 

Descartes,  Ren^,  150-153 

Deschamps,  Antony,  366 

Deschamps,  Emile,  366 

Desfontaines,  300 

De'smarets  de  St.-Sorlin,  141,  142, 144, 

197,  241 

Des-Masures,  Loys,  107 
Desmoulins,  Camille,  338 
Desportes,  Philippe,  105-106,  137 
Despr6aux,  see  Boileau 
Destouches,  263 
Diderot,  Denis,  254,  265,  272,  294- 

299,  302,  313 

Digulleville,  Guillaume  de,  43 
Dollinger,  180 
Dorat,  258 
Dubos,  Abb6,  305 
Duche1,  259 
Ducis,  261 
Duclos,  253 

Dudevant,  Mme.,  see  Sand,  George 
Dufresny,  262,  274 
Dumas,  Alexandre,  394,  397 
Dumont,  Abbd,  370 
Dupont  de  Nemours,  304 
Duplessis-Mornay,  115 
Du  Ryer,  162,  170 
Dassault,  342 
Duval,  336 


Eneas,  16 

Enfants  san  Souci,  74,  76 
Epinay,  Mme.  d',  253,  314 
Estienne,  Henri,  101  note,  no,  115 
Estissac,  Geoffrey  d' ,  £7 

2Q 


Estoile,  Pierre  de  1',  114  note 
Etienne,  336 

FABRE  D'EGLANTIXK,  336 

Fantosme,  Jordan,  47 

Fauchet,  Claude,  no 

Fauriel,  341 

Fayette,  Mme.  de  la,  174,  179,  180-182 

Feiielon,  153,  230-234 

Fle'chier,  140,  228 

Fleury,  225 

Floovent,  8 

Florian,  259,  272 

Fontanes,  337,  349 

Fontenelle,  242,  243-245 

Foucher,  AcLle,  375 

Fougeres,  Etienne  de,  42 

Foulechat,  Denis,  46 

Fouquet,  190,  200 

Fourier,  359 

Fournival,  Richard  de,  41 

Franc-Archer  de  Bagnolet,  74 

Francis  I.,  82 

Frederick  the  Great,  286,  238 

FreYon,  300 

Froissart,  Jean,  53-55 

Furetiere,  Antoine,  145,  211 

GACE  BRULK,  27 

Gaimar,  47 

Gaime,  Abbe",  312 

Galiani,  254,  305 

Gailand,  274 

Gamier,  Robert,  108 

Gamier  de  Pont-Sainte-Maxence,  6, 

47 

Gassendi,  Pierre,  153 
Gautier,  TMophile,  365,  387-390,  392 
Gautier  de  Coinci,  6 
Gel6e,  Jacquemart,  31 
Gens  Nouveaux,  74 
Geoffrin,  Mme.,  254 
Geoffroi  of  Brittany,  28 
Geoffrey,  342 
Gerson,  44,  45 
Gilbert,  258-259,  300 
Gillot,  116 


440 


INDEX 


Ginguene\  341,  411 

Girardin,  M.  de,  315 

Girardin,  Saint-Marc,  425 

Godeau,  139 

Goethe,  297,  345 

Gombault,  142 

Gomberville,  142 

Gournay,  305 

Gournay,  Mdlle.  de,  123 

Grandes  Ckronique^,  50 

Greban,  Arnoul,  69 

Greban,  Simon,  69 

Grecourt,  258 

Cresset,  258,  260,  263 

Gre'vin,  107 

Grignan,  Mme.  de,  178 

Grimm,  Melchior,  307 

Gringoire,  Pierre,  74 

Griselidis,  Histoire  de,  68 

Guene'e,  Abb6,  300 

Guevara,  267 

Guillaume  le  Cl.-rc,  42 

Guillaume  le  Mardchal,  Vie  de,  47 

Guirlande  de  Julie,  140 

Guizot,  Frar^ois,  412,  414-416 

Guyon,  Mme.,  224,230 

HAMILTON,  Anthony,  256 

Hardouin,  254 

Hardy,  Alexandra,  161 

Helgaire,  8 

Helve'tius,  301 

He'nault,  261 

Henri  le  Glichezare,  30 

Herberay  des  Essarts,  92 

Hoffman,  3^2 

Holbach,  Baron  d1,  302 

Hospital,  Michel  de  1',  ico,  115 

Hot  man,  Fran  90)5,  114 

Houdetot,  Mme.  d',  314,  318 

Huet,  242 

Hugo,  Victor,  365,  375-383,  391-393, 

396 
Hume,  David,  315 

JACOT  DE  FOREST,  16 
Jansen,  156 


Jeannin,  President,  114  note 
Jehah  de  Thuin,  16 
Jobelins,  140 
Jodelle,  98,  103,  107 
Joinville,  Jean  de,  50-52 
Joubert,  Joseph,  342-343,  349 
Jouffroy,  Theodore,  359 

LA  BARRE,  288 

Lab6,  Louise,  97 

La  Beaumelle,  179 

Laboureur,  Louis  le,  141 

La  Bruyere,  235-238,  242 

La  Calprenede,  142,  143 

Lacordaire,  357,  358 

La  Fare,  256 

La  Fontaine,  Jean  d^,  189-195 

La  Fosse,  259 

Lagrange,  302 

La  Grange-Chancel,  259 

Laharpe,  261,  306-307 

La  Have,  Fragment  of,  9 

Lally,  Count,  288 

Lamarck,  341 

Lamartine,   Alphonse   de,   329,   367- 

37i 

Lambert,  Marquise  de,  254,  269 
Lambert  le  Tort,  16 
Lamennais,  357-358 
La  Mettrie,  300-301 
Lamoignon,  de,  202 
La  Motte-Houdart,  243,  256,  260 
Languet,  Hubert,  114 
Lanoue,  113 
Laplace,  341 
Larivey,  Pierre  de,  109 
La  Rochefoucauld,  173-175,  181,  182 
La'.ini,  Brunetto,  41 
Laya,  Louis,  336 
Le  Bel,  Jean,  53 
Lebrun,  Ecouchard,  258,  337 
Le  Clerc,  214 
Lecomte,  Valleran,  160 
Lefranc  de  Pompignan,  256 
Lefranc,  Martin,  62 
Legouais,  Chretien,  17,  58 
Legouv(?,  335 


INDEX 


441 


Le  Maire  de  Beiges,  Jean,  84 

Lemercier,  Nepomucene,  336,  337 

Lemierre,  258,  260 

Lemoyne,  141 

L  Empereur  qui  tua  son  Neveu,  73 

Leroy,  Pierre,  116 

Lesage,  262,  266-268 

Lespinasse,  Mdlle.  de,  254,  322 

Letourneur,  261 

Le  Vasseur,  TheYese,  313 

Lille,  Alain  de,  37 

Lorens,  Friar,  41 

Lorris,  Gtiillaume  de,  34-36 

Lyonne,  Abbe"  de,  266 

MABLY,  255 

Machaut,  Guillaume  de,  59 

Maillard,  Olivier,  45 

Maine  de  Biran,  341 

Maintenon,  Mme.  de,  118,  145,  179- 

180,  216,  217 

Mairet,  Jean  de,  162,  165,  196 
Maistre,  Joseph  de,  355-356 
Maistre,  Xavier  de,  409 
Malebranche,  Nicolas  de,  153 
Malherbe,  Fra^ois  de,  100,  106,  134- 

136,  33i 

Mallet  du  Pin,  338 
Marbode,  Bishop,  41 
Marguerite  of  Navarre,  82-84 
Marguerite  of  Navarre  (wife  of  Henri 

IV.),  114 

Marie  de  France,  20,  28 
Marivaux,  262,  269-271 
Marmontel,  253,  260,  272,  300,  305- 

306 

Marnix  de  Ste.  Aldegonde,  115 
Mascaron,  228 
Massillon,  J.-B. ,  228,  229 
Maupertuis,  286 
Maynard,  136 

Melin  de  Saint-Gelais,  86,  105 
Manage,  177,  205 
Mdnagier  de  Paris,  41  note 
Mendoza,  267 
Menot,  Michel,  45 
Mercier,  265 


Me"ri,  Huon  de,  43 

Me'rim^e,  Prosper,  396,  408-410 

Meschinot,  65 

Meun,  Jean  de,  36-39 

M»5zeray,  225 

Michaud,  411 

Michel,  Jean,  69 

Michelet,  Jules,  412,  418-422 

Mignet,  Fra^ois,  412,  416 

Millevoye,  337 

Mirabeau,  339-340 

Mirabeau  (the  elder),  281,  305 

Miracles  de  Notre-Dame,  68 

Moliere,  Jean-Baptiste,  146,  169,  197- 

206 

Molinet,  65 

Monluc,  Blaize  de,  112-113 
Monstrelet,  55 

•  Montaigne,  Michel  de,  121-126 
Montalembert,  357,  358,  412 
Montchrestien,  Antoine  de,  120,  160 
Montesquieu,  57,  in,  255,  273-280 
Montfleury,  207 

Montpensier,  Mdlle.  de,  176,  235 
Montreuil,  Jean  de,  46 
Moreau,  H6g6sippe,  391 
Morellet,  300,  305 
Morelly,  255 
Mornay,  Mme.  de,  113 
Mothe  le  Vayer,  la,  153 
Motteville,  Mme.  de,  176 
Muret,  106 
Musset,  Alfred  de,  383-387 

NAIGEON,  302 

Namur,  Robert  of,  54 

Nangis,  Guillaume  de,  51 

Napoleon  I. ,  340 

Napoleon  III.,  369 

Navagero,  105 

Nerval,  Gerard  de,  388,  391 

Nevers,  Due  de,  214 

Nicole,  156,  178,  208,  209,  215 

Ninon,  183 

Nisard,  Desire1,  425-426 

Nivart  of  Ghent,  30 

Nivelle  de  la  Chausse'e,'264 


442 


INDEX 


Nodier,  Charles,  366,  409 
Novare,  Philippe  de,  41 

OGIER,  Frar^ois,  162 
Oresme,  Nicole,  46 
Orleans,  Charles  d',  61-62 
Orleans,  Duchess  of,  180,  212 
Ossat,  d',  114  note 
Ouville,  d',  196 
Ozanam,  412 

PALISSOT,  300 

Palissy,  Barnard,  119 

Par6,  Ambroise,  119 

Parny,  258 

Partenoptus  de  Blois,  22 

Pascal,  Blaise,  154-159 

Pasquier,  Estienne,  no 

Passerat,  Jean,  106,  116 

Pathelin,  La  Farce  de,  66,  75-76 

Pelerinage  de  Jerusalem,  n 

Pellisson,  148 

P^rier,  Mme. ,  158 

PeYiers,  Bonaventure  des,  84,  91 

Perrault,  Charles,  241-242,  243 

Perron,  du,  115 

Physiocrats,  the,  304 

Picard,  336 

Piron,  258,  260,  263,  300 

Pithou,  116 

Pixe're'court,  336 

Pomponne,  179 

Ponsard,  395 

Popeliniere,  L.  de  la,  112 

Poquelin.     See  Moliere 

Port-Royal,  155,  252 

Pradon, 214 

Presles,  Raoul  de,  46 

Pr6vost,  Abb6,  271-272 

Proudhon,  Pierre  Joseph,  361-362 

Provins,  Guiot  de,  42 

QUESNAY,  Fran9ois,  304,  305 
Quinault,    Philippe,   169,    204,    2o5, 

207-208 

Quinet,  Edgar,  412,  422-423 
Quinse  Joies  de  Mariage,  66 


RABELAIS,  Franqois,  87-91 

Racan,  136 

Racine,  Jean,  172,  208-218 

Racine,  Louis,  257 

Rambouillet,  Hotel  de,  139 

Rame'e,  Pierre  de  la,  in 

Ramond,  321  note 

Raoul  de  Houdan,  43 

Rapin,  116 

Raynal,  Abbe1,  321-322 

Rayounard,  336,  341 

Re'camier,  Mme.,  352 

Rtcits  d"  un  Mfnestrel  de  Reini:,  50 

Regnard,  262 

Regnier,  Mathurin,  136-138 

Kenard,  Roman  de,  29 

Representation  d' Adam,  67 

Restif  de  la  Bretonne,  272 

Retz,  Cardinal  de,  175-176 

Riccoboni,  Mme.,  270  note 

Richelieu,  147,  162,  176 

Rivarol,  338 

Robert  de  Boron,  21,  22 

Rocca,  Albert  rie,  347 

Rohan,  Chevalier  de,  284 

Rojas,  1 06 

Roland,  Mm3. ,  253,  254,  322 

Roland,  Song  of  ,  9-11 

Rollin,  300 

Romulus,  28  note 

Ronsard,  Pierre  de,  97-103 

Rotrou,  Jean,  162,  170-171,  196 

Roucher,  257 

Rouget  de  Lisle,  337 

Rousseau,  Jean-Baptiste,  256,  283 

Rousseau,    Jcan-Jacqu?s,    272,    311- 

321.  327 

Roye,  Jean  de,  55 
Royer-Collard,  341 
Rutebeuf,  42,  43 

SABLE,  Mine,  dc,  173 
Sabliere,  Mme.  de,  192 
Sacy,  de,  156 
Sagon,  85 
Saint-Amand,  144 
Saint-Cyran,  156 


INDEX 


443 


Sainte-Beuve,  330,  365,  366,  391,  426- 

427  f 

Saint-Evremond,  139,  183,  197,  209 
Saint-Just,  339 
Saint-Lambert,  257 
Saint-Martin,  355,  357 
Saint-Pierre,  Abbe1  de,  304 
Saint-Simon,  Claude-Henri  de,  359- 

360 

Saint-Simon,  Due  de,  238-241 
Sales,  Fran9ois  de,  131-132 
Salle,  Antoine  de  la,  65-66 
Sand,  George,  400-404 
Sandeau,  Jules,  401 
Sannazaro,  103 
Saurin,  Bernard-Joseph,  261 
Saurin,  Jacques,  228 
Scarron,  Paul,  145,  197 
Sceve,  Maurice,  97 
Schelandre,  Jean  de,  162 
Schiller,  345 

Schlegel,  A.  W.  von,  346 
Scribe,  Eugene,  395 
ScudeYy,  Georges  de,  142,  162,  163, 

165,  170 

ScudeYy,  Mdlle.  de,  92,  142,  143 
Sebonde,  Raimond  de,  122 
Secchi,  199 
Sedaine,  265 
Segrais,  181,  213,  235 
Se'nancourt,  341-342 
Serres,  Olivier  de,  119,  132 
Serviteur,  Le  Loyal,  112  note 
Se'vigne',  Mme.  ds,  143,  177-179,  191, 

210 

Simon,  Richard,  220,  224,  225 
Sirven,  288 
Sismondi,  411-412 
Sorel,  Charles,  144,  268 
Soulie',  Fre'deYic,  394 
Soyecourt,  Marquis  de,  200 
Staal-Delaunay,  Mme.  de,  253 
Stael,  Mme.  de,  343-348   - 
Steinhcewel ,  28 
Stendhal.     See  Beyle 
Strasburg  Oaths,  4 
Suard,  338 


Sue,  Eugene,  397 
Sully,  Maurice  de,  44 
Surgeres,  Helene  de,  101 

TABARIN,  196 

Taille,  Jacques  de  la,  107 

Taille,  Jean  de  la,  108,  109 

Tedbalt,  4 

Tencin,  Mme.  de,  245 

Thaon,  Philippe  de,  40 

Thebes,  Romance  of,  15 

Thtophile,  68 

Thibaut  de  Champagne,  27 

Thierry,  Augustin,  412-414 

Thiers,  Adolphe,  412,  417-418 

Thomas  (Anglo-Norman  poet),  19 

Thomas,  A.-L. ,  306,  327 

Thou,  De,  112 

Thyard,  Pontus  de,  98 

Tocqueville,  A.  de,  412,  416-417 

Tour-Landry,  Livre  du  Chevalier  de 

la,  41  note 
Touroude,  10 
Tracy,  Destutt  de,  301 
Tristan  1'Hermite,  162,  170 
Turgot,  255 
Turnebe,  Odet  de,  109 

URANISTES,  140 

Urfe,  Honors'  d',  92,  132-134 

VAIR,  Guillaume  de,  120,  127,  134 

Valenciennes,  Henri  de,  49 

Valliere,  Louise  de  la,  221 

Van  Dale,  244 

Vauban, 304 

Vaugelas,  148 

Vauquelin  de  la  Fresnaye,  Jean,  ic6 

Vauvenargues,  281-282 

Vaux,  Mme.  Clothilde  de,  360 

Velly,  254 

Vergniaud,  339 

Vertot,  254 

Viau,  Theophile  de,  138 

Vigny,  Alfred  de,  365,  371-374,  394, 

396 
Villehardouin,  Geoffroy  de,  48 


444  INDEX 

Villemain,  424  Volney,  303 

Villon,  Frar^ois,  63-65,  74  Voltaire,  229,  253,  255,  260,  272,  282- 

Vincent  de  Paul,  St.,  221  293,  314 

Viole,  Mdlle.  de,  104 

Violette,  Roman  de  la,  22 

Viret,  94  WAGE,  20,  47 

Vivonne,  Catherine  de,  139  Walpole,  Horace,  322 

Voiture,  Vincent,  139,  140-141  Warens,  Mme.  de,  311,  312,  318 

Volland,  Mdlle.,  298  Wenceslas,  Duke,  54 


THE   END 


A  Study  of  the  American  Commonwealth ,  ,,., 
Natural  Resources,  People,  Industries,  Manu- 
factures, Commerce,  and  its  Work  in  Litera- 
ture, Science,  Education,  and  Self -Government. 

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"Mr.  Dawson  has  made  a  remarkably  close  and  discriminating  study  of  German 
life  and  institutions  at  the  present  day,  and  the  results  of  his  observations  are  set  forth 
in  a  most  interesting  manner."  —  Brooklyn  Times. 

"  There  is  scarcely  any  phase  of  German  national  life  unnoticed  in  his  comprehen- 
sive survey.  .  .  .  Mr.  Dawson  has  endeavored  to  write  from  the  view-point  of  a  sincere 
yet  candid  well-wisher,  of  an  unprejudiced  observer,  who,  even  when  he  is  unable  to 
approve,  speaks  his  mind  in  soberness  and  kindness."  —  New  York  Sun. 

"  There  is  much  in  German  character  to  admire  ;  much  in  Germany's  life  and  insti- 
tutions from  which  Americans  may  learn.  William  Harbutt  Dawson  has  succeeded  in 
making  this  fact  clearer,  and  his  work  will  go  far  to  help  Americans  and  Germans  to 
know  each  other  better  and  to  respect  each  other  more.  ...  It  is  a  remarkable  and  a 
fascinating  work."  —  Chicago  Evening  Post. 

"  One  of  the  very  best  works  on  this  subject  which  has  been  published  up  to  date." 

—  New  York  Herald. 

/I    HISTORY   OF    GERMANY,  from  the  Earliest 
•*•*     Times  to  the  Present  Day.      By  BAYARD  TAYLOR.     With  an 
Additional  Chapter  by  MARIE   HANSEN-TAYLOR.     With  Por- 
trait and  Maps.     I2mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

"  There  is,  perhaps,  no  work  of  equal  size  in  any  language  which  gives  a  better 
view  of  the  tortuous  course  of  German  history.  Now  that  the  story  of  a  race  is  to  be 
in  good  earnest  a  story  of  a  nation  as  well,  it  begins,  as  every  one,  whether  German  or 
foreign,  sees,  to  furnish  unexpected  and  wonderful  lessons.  But  these  can  only  be 
understood  in  the  light  of  the  past.  Taylor  could  end  his  work  with  the  birth  of  the 
Empire,  but  the  additional  narrative  merely  foreshadows  the  events  of  the  future.  It 
may  be  that  all  the  doings  of  the  past  ages  on  German  soil  are  but  the  introduction  of 
what  is  to  come.  That  is  certainly  the  thought  which  grows  upon  one  as  he  peruses 
this  volume."  —  New  York  Tribune. 

"When  one  considers  the  confused,  complicated,  and  sporadic  elements  of  German 
history,  it  seems  scarcely  possible  to  present  a  clear,  continuous  narrative.  Yet  this  is 
what  Bayard  Taylor  did.  He  omitted  no  episode  of  importance,  and  yet  managed  to 
preserve  a  main  line  of  connection  from  century  to  century  throughout  the  narrative." 

—  Philadelphia  Ledger. 

"A  most  excellent  short  history  of  Germany.  .  .  .  Mrs.  Taylor  has  done  weil  the 
work  she  reluctantly  consented  to  undertake.  Her  story  is  not  only  clearly  told,  but 
told  in  a  style  that  is  quite  consistent  with  that  of  the  work  which  she  completes.  .  .  . 
As  a  matter  of  course  the  history  excels  in  its  literary  style.  Mr.  Taylor  could  not 
have  written  an  unentertaining  book.  This  book  arouses  interest  in  its  opening  chapter 
and  maintains  it  to  the  very  end.  "  —  New  York  Times. 

"  Probably  the  best  work  of  its  kind  adapted  for  school  purposes  that  can  be  had  in 
English."  —  Boston  Herald. 


New  York  :  D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  72  Fifth  Avenue, 


D.   APPLETON  AND  COMPANY'S  PUBLICATIONS. 

TN  JOYFUL  RUSSIA.  By  JOHN  A.  LOGAN,  Jr. 
With  50  Illustrations  in  color  and  black  and  white.  I2mo. 
Cloth,  $3.50. 

"Of  extreme  interest  from  beginning  to  end.  Mr.  Logan  has  animation  of  style, 
good  spirits,  a  gift  of  agreeable  and  enlivening  expression,  and  a  certain  charm  which 
may  be  called  companionableness.  To  travel,  with  him  must  have  been  a  particular 
pleasure.  He  has  sense  of  humor,  a  way  of  getting  over  rough  places,  and  understand- 
ing of  human  nature.  There  is  not  a  dull  chapter  in  his  book." — New  York  Times. 

"  Mr.  Logan  has  written  of  the  things  which  he  saw  with  a  fullness  that  leaves  noth- 
ing to  be  desired  for  their  comprehension ;  with  an  eye  that  was  quick  to  perceive  their 
novelty,  their  picturesqueness,  their  national  significance,  and  with  a  mind  not  made 
up  beforehand — frankly  open  to  new  impressions,  alert  in  its  perceptions,  reasonable 
in  its  judgment,  manly,  independent,  and,  like  its  environments,  filled  with  holiday 
enthusiasm." — New  York  Mail  and  Express. 

"  No  more  fresh,  original,  and  convincing  picture  of  the  Russian  people  and  Russian 
life  has  appeared.  .  .  .  The  author  has  described  picturesquely  and  in  much  detail 
whatever  he  has  touched  upon.  .  .  .  Few  books  of  travel  are  at  once  so  readable  and 
so  informing,  and  not  many  are  so  successfully  illustrated  ;  for  the  pictures  tell  a  story 
of  their  own,  while  they  also  interpret  to  the  eye  a  vivid  narrative." — Boston  Herald. 

"  A  chronicle  of  impressions  gathered  during  a  brief  and  thoroughly  enjoyed  holi- 
day by  a  man  with  eyes  wide  open  and  senses  alert  to  see  and  hear  new  things.  Thor- 
oughly successful  and  well  worth  perusal.  .  .  .  There  will  be  found  within  its  pages 
plenty  to  instruct  and  entertain  the  reader." — Brooklyn  Eagle. 

"The  book  is  a  historical  novelty;  and  nowadays  a  more  valuable  distinction  can 
not  be  attached  to  a  book.  ...  No  other  book  of  travels  of  late  years  is  so  unalterably 
interesting." — Boston  Journal. 

"  Mr.  Logan's  narrative  is  spirited  in  tone  and  color.  ...  A  volume  that  is  enter- 
taining and  amusing,  and  not  unworthy  to  be  called  instructive.  The  style  is  at  all 
times  lively  and  spirited,  and  full  of  good  humor." — Philadelphia  Press. 

"  Mr.  Logan  has  a  quick  eye,  a  ready  pen,  a  determination  to  make  the  most  of 
opportunities,  and  his  book  is  very  interesting.  .  .  ..  He  has  made  a  thoroughly  read- 
able book  in  which  history  and  bi  Jgraphy  are  brought  in  to  give  one  a  good  general  im- 
pression of  affairs." — Hartford  Post. 

"  Mr.  Logan  has  presented  in  attractive  language,  reenforced  by  many  beautiful 
photographs,  a  most  entertaining  narrative  of  his  personal  experiences,  besides  a  daz- 
zling panorama  of  the  coronation  ceremonies.  .  .  .  Read  without  prejudice  on  the  sub- 
ject of  the  Russian  mode  of  government,  the  book  is  unusually  able,  instructive,  and 
entertaining." — Bostm  Globe. 

"  Mr.  Logan  departs  from  the  usual  path,  in  telling  in  clear,  simple,  good  style  about 
the  intimate  life  of  the  Russian  people."— Baltimore  Sun. 


D.  APPLETON  AND   COMPANY,  NEW  YORK. 


D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY'S  PUBLICATIONS. 

PETER  THE  GREAT.    By  K.  WALISZEWSKI,  au- 

•*•  thor  of  "The  Romance  of  an  Empress"  (Catharine  II  of  Rus- 
sia). Translated  by  Lady  Mary  Loyd.  Small  8vo.  Cloth, 
with  Portrait,  $2.00. 

"One  of  the  most  interesting  biographies  of  the  historical  kind  we  have  read  for  a 
long  time.  .  .  .  Intensely  interesting  because  absolutely  unique." — London  Daily 
Chronicle.  , 

"  A  brilliant  book,  a  profound  study  of  human  character,  and  a  dispassionate  and 
learned  survey  of  modern  Russian  history.  .  .  .  A  strange,  a  terrible  sto.y  ;  fascinating 
by  the  power  of  the  living  human  force,  which  compels  admiration." — London  Sketch. 


"  It  is  a  marvelous  story,  this  of  Peter  the  Great,  and  it  has  been  told  with  great 
spirit  by  the  author." — London  Saturday  Review. 

"If  ever  there  was  a  man  of  genius  it  was  Peter  the  Great.  He  is  the  one  Russian 
of  his  time  whose  name  has  corned  own  through  the  centuries,  and  he  was  almost  the 
only  Russian  of  his  day  who  won  an  international  reputation.  Russia  in  those  days 
stood  in  need  of  a  man  like  him,  and  how  well  he  served  her  is  fully  told  in  this  book. 
.  .  .  The  cardinal  merit  of  this  book  is  that  it  increases  our  knowledge  of  mediaeval 
Russia." — New  York  Herald. 

"  M.  Waliszewski  knows  his  subject  well,  and  in  his  work  he  gives  the  most  con- 
sistent and  intelligible  survey  of  Russian  life  and  character  that  has  been  offered  by 
any  of  the  modern  historians." — Chicago  Evening  Post. 

"  A  biography  illuminated  by  an  active  imagination,  a  romance  in  which  there  is  no 
conscious  fiction,  but  where  the  elements  are  fused  in  the  alembic  of  a  mind  that  can 
conjure  back  the  remote  past." — Philadelphia  Press. 

"  There  has  not  been  a  novel  published  this  season  that  is  as  interesting— as  exciting 
and  thrilling,  if  you  will— as  this  biography  of  one  of  the  most  remarkable  men  the 
world  has  ever  seen.  ...  A  literary  treat  for  those  who  carefully  read  it." — Buffalo 
Commercial. 

"One  of  the  most  fascinating  books  of  the  year;  a  great  historical  painting,  done 
with  patience  and  exactitude,  but  also  with  boldness  and  brilliancy." — Chicago  Times- 
Herald. 

"  Will  be  found  as  interesting  as  the  most  absorbing  fiction." — Boston  Glote. 

"This  is  a  trustworthy  history;  it  bears  the  marks  of  painstaking  truthfulness;  it 
is  scholarly,  graphic,  comprehensive,  and  just.  We  read  it  with  a  sense  of  being  led  by 
an  intelligent  guide  and  of  listening  to  a  candid  judge  and  critic.  .  .  .  The  story 
has  been  told  in  a  brilliant  and  powerful  way,  and  there  is  no  book  better  adapted  to 
ihe  needs  of  Western  readers  at  this  era;  full  of  the  right  information,  rich  in  sugges- 
tion, keen  in  discrimination,  and  far-sighted  in  outlook,  it  is  history  and  prophecy  in 
one." — New  York  Evangelist. 

"  Such  a  vivid  picture  of  Peter  the  man  has  not  been  put  on  paper  before.  Walis- 
zewski's  histoiy  thrills  with  life  and  interest,  and  is  a  brilliantly  colored  romance  ;  yet 
he  sternly  keeps  to  facts,  and  gives  the  impression  of  having  impartially  judged  and 
rigorously  presented  a  fair  and  conscientious  view  of  this  portion  of  history." — Chicago 
^leius. 

"  An  exceedingly  interesting  and  valuable  estimate  of  Peter's  character  and  work." 
-  Review  of  Reviews. 

"  A  brilliant  and  notably  readable  Look,  filled  with  vivid  impressions,  and  not  lack- 
ing in  philosophical  meaning." — Bosttn  Beacon. 


D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY,  NEW  YORK. 


M 


D.  APPLETON  £  CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS. 


EMOIRS  ILLUSTRATING  -THE  HISTORY 
OF  NAPOLEON  /,  from  1802  to  1813.  By  Baron  CLAUDE- 
FRANCOIS  DE  MENEVAL,  Private  Secretary  to  Napoleon.  Ed- 
ited by  his  Grandson,  Baron  NAPOLEON  JOSEPH  DE  MENEVAL.  ' 
With  Portraits  and  Autograph  Letters.  In  three  volumes 
8vo.  Cloth,  $6.00. 

'  The  Baron  de  Meneval  knew  Napoleon  as  few  knew  him.  He  was  his  confiden- 
tial secretary  and  intimate  friend.  .  .  .  Students  and  historians  who  wish  to  form  a 
trustworthy  estimate  of  Napoleon  can  not  afford  to  neglect  this  testimony  by  one  of  his 
most  intimate  associates." — London  News. 

"These  Memoirs,  by  the  private  secretary  of  Napoleon,  are  a  valuable  and  impor- 
tant contribution  to  the  history  of  the  Napoleonic  period,  and  necessarily  they  throw 
new  and  interesting  light  on  the  personality  and  real  sentiments  of  the  emperor.  If 
Napoleon  anywhere  took  off  the  mask,  it  was  in  the  seclusion  of  his  private  cabinet. 
The  Memoirs  have  been  republished  almost  as  they  were  written,  by  Baron  de  Meneval's 
grandson,  with  the  addition  of  some  supplementary  documents." — London  Times. 

"  Medieval  has  brought  the  living  Napoleon  clearly  before  us  in  a  portrait,  flattering, 
no  doubt,  but  essentially  true  to  nature ;  and  he  has  shown  us  what  the  emperor  really 
was — at  the  head  of  his  armies,  in  his  Council  of  State,  as  the  ruler  of  France,  as  the 
lord  of  the  continent— above  all,  in  the  round  of  his  daily  life,  and  in  the  circle  of  family 
and  home." — London  Academy. 

"Neither  the  editor  nor  translator  of  Me'neval's  Memoirs  has  miscalculated  his  deep 
interest — an  interest  which  does  not  depend  on  literary  style  but  on  the  substance  of 
what  is  related  Whoever  reads  this  volume  will  wait  with  impatience  for  the  remain- 
der.''—^. Y.  Tribune. 

"  The  work  will  take  rank  with  the  most  important  of  memoirs  relating  to  the  period. 
Its  great  value  arises  largely  from  its  author's  transparent  veracity.  Meneval  was  one 
of  those  men  who  could  not  consciously  tell  anything  but  the  truth.  He  was  constitu- 
tionally unfitted  for  lying.  .  .  .  The  book  is  extremely  interesting,  and  it  is  as  impor- 
tant as  it  is  interesting." — N.  Y.  Times. 

"  Few  memorists  have  given  us  a  more  minute  account  of  Napo'eon.  .  .  .  No  lover 
of  Napoleon,  no  admirer  of  his  wonderful  genius,  can  fail  to  read  these  interesting  and 
important  volumes  which  have  been  waited  for  for  years." — N.  Y.  World. 

"  The  book  will  be  hailed  with  delight  by  the  collectors  of  Napoleonic  literature,  as 
it  covers  much  ground  wholly  unexplored  by  the  great  majority  of  the  biographers  of 
Napoleon." — Providence  Journal. 

"Medieval  made  excellent  use  of  the  rare  opportunity  he  enjoyed  of  studying  closely 
and  at  close  range  the  personality  of  the  supreme  genius  in  human  history.'  — Phila- 
delphia Press. 

"Of  all  the  memoirs  illustrating  the  history  of  the  first  Napoleon— and  their  num- 
ber is  almost  past  counting— there  is  probably  not  one  which  will  be  found  of  more 
value  to  the  judicious  historian,  or  of  more  interest  to  the  general  reader,  than  these. 
.  .  .  Meneval,  whose  Memoirs  were  written  nearly  fifty  years  ago,  had  nothing  either 
to  gain  or  to  lose ;  his  work,  from  the  first  page  to  the  last,  impresses  the  reader  with  a 
deep  respect  for  the  author's  talent,  as  well  as  his  absolute  honesty  and  loyalty."— 
N.  Y.  Independent. 

"These  Memoirs  constitute  an  important  contribution  to  the  understanding  of  Na- 
poleon's character.  They  are  evidently  written  in  good  faith,  and,  as  the  writer  had 
remarkable  opportunities  of  observation,  they  must  be  accepted  as  authentic  testimony 
to  the  existence  in  Napoleon  of  gentle,  humane,  sympathetic,  and  amiable  qualities, 
with  which  he  has  not  been  often  credited." — N.  Y.  Sun. 


New  York :   D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  72  Fifth  Avenue. 


T 


D.   APPLETON  &   CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS. 

HE  BEGINNERS  OF  A  NATION.  A  History 
of  the  Source  and  Rise  of  the  Earliest  English  Settlements  in 
America,  with  Special  Reference  to  the  Life  and  Character  oi 
the  People.  The  first  volume  in  A  History  of  Life  in  the 
United  States.  By  EDWARD  EGGLESTON.  Small  8vo.  Cloth, 
gilt  top,  uncut,  with  Maps,  $1.50. 

"  Few  works  on  the  period  which  it  covers  can  compare  with  this  in  point  of  mere 
literary  attractiveness,  and  we  fancy  that  many  to  whom  its  scholarly  value  will  not  ap 
peal  will  read  the  volume  with  interest  and  delight."— New  York  Evening  Post. 

"  Wiitten  with  a  firm  grasp  of  the  theme,  inspired  by  ample  knowledge,  and  made 
attractive  hy  a  vigorous  and  resonant  style,  the  book  will  receive  much  attention.  It 
is  a  great  theme  the  author  has  taken  up,  and  he  grasps'  it  with  the  confidence  of  a 
master." — New  York  Times. 

"  Mr.  Eggleston's  '  Beginners '  is  unique.  No  similar  historical  study  has,  to  our 
knowledge,  ever  been  done  in  the  same  way.  Mr.  Eggleston  is  a  reliable  reporter  of 
facts ;  but  he  is  also  an  exceedingly  keen  critic.  He  writes  history  without  the  effort 
to  merge  the  critic  in  the  historian.  His  sense  of  humor  is  never  dormant.  He  renders 
some  of  the  dullest  passages  in  colonial  annals  actually  amusing  by  his  wilty  treatment 
of  them.  He  finds  a  laugh  for  his  readers  where  most  of  his  predecessors  have  found 
yawns.  And  with  all  this  he  does  not  sacrifice  the  dignity  of  history  for  an  instant" — 
Boston  Saturday  Evening  Gazette. 

"  The  delightful  style,  the  clear  flow  of  the  narrative,  the  philosophical  tone,  and 
the  able  analysis  of  men  and  events  will  commend  Mr.  Eggleston's  work  to  earnest 
students." — Philadelphia  Public  Ledger. 

"The  work  is  worthy  of  careful  reading,  not  only  because  of  the  author's  ability  as  a 
literary  artist,  but  because  of  his  conspicuous  proficiency  in  interpreting  the  causes  of 
and  changes  in  American  life  and  character." — Boston  Journal. 

"  It  is  noticeable  that  Mr.  Eggleston  has  followed  no  beaten  track,  but  has  drawn 
his  own  conclusions  as  to  the  early  period,  and  they  differ  from  the  generally  received 
version  not  a  little.  The  book  is  stimulating  and  will  prove  of  great  value  to  the  stu- 
dent of  history." — Minneapolis  "Journal. 

"  A  very  interesting  as  well  as  a  valuable  book.  ...  A  distinct  advance  upon  most 
that  has  been  written,  particularly  of  the  settlement  of  New  England." — Newark 
Advertiser. 

"  One  of  the  most  important  books  of  the  year.  It  is  a  work  of  art  as  well  as  ot 
historical  science,  and  its  distinctive  purpose  is  to  give  an  insight  into  the  real  life  and 
character  of  people.  .  .  .  The  author's  style  is  charming,  and  the  history  is  fully  as  inter- 
esting as  a  novel." — Brooklyn  Standard-Union. 

"  The  value  of  Mr.  Eggleston's  work  is  in  that  it  is  really  a  history  of '  life,'  not 
merely  a  record  of  events.  .  .  .  The  comprehensive  purpose  of  his  volume  has  been 
excellently  performed.  The  book  is  eminently  readable." — Philadelphia  Times. 


New  York  :  D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  72  Fifth  Avenue. 


D.  APPLETON  &  CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS. 
/JPPLETONS'  CYCLOPEDIA  OF  AMERICAN 

*i  BIOGRAPHY.  Complete  in  six  volumes,  royal  8vo,  contain- 
ing about  800  pages  each.  With  sixty-one  fine  steel  portraits 
and  some  two  thousand  smaller  vignette  portraits  and  views  of 
birthplaces,  residences,  statues,  etc. 

APPLETONS'  CYCLOPAEDIA  OF  AMERICAN  BIOGRAPHY,  edited  by  Gen- 
eral JAMES  GRANT  WILSON,  President  of  the  New  York  Genealogical  and 
Biographical  Society,  and  Professor  JOHN  FISKE,  formerly  of  Harvard  Uni- 
versity, assisted  by  over  two  hundred  special  contributors,  contains  a 
biographical  sketch  of  every  person  eminent  in  American  civil  and  military 
history,  in  law  and  politics,  in  divinity,  in  literature  and  art,  in  science  and 
in  invention.  Its  plan  embraces  all  the  countries  of  North  and  South 
America,  and  includes  distinguished  persons  born  abroad,  but  related  to 
American  history.  As  events  are  always  connected  with  persons,  it  affords 
a  complete  compendium  of  American  history  in  every  branch  of  human 
achievement.  An  exhaustive  topical  and  analytical  Index  enables  the  reader 
to  follow^the  history  of  any  subject  with  great  readiness. 

"  It  is  the  most  complete  work  that  exists  on  the  subject.  The  tone  and  guiding 
spirit  of  the  book  are  certainly  very  fair,  and  show  a  mind  bent  on  a  discriminate,  just, 
and  proper  treatment  of  its  subject." — From  the  Hon.  GEORGE  BANCROFT. 

"  The  portraits  are  remarkably  good.  To  anyone  interested  in  Amercan  history 
or  literature,  the  Cyclopsedia  will  be  indispensable." — Ftom  the  Hon.  JAMES  RUSSELL 
LOWELL. 

"The  selection  of  names  seems  to  be  liberal  and  just.  The  portraits,  so  far  as  I  can 
judge,  are  faithful,  and  the  biographies  trustworthy." — From  NOAH  PORTER,  D.  D., 
LL.  D.,  ex-President  of  Yale  College. 

"A  most  valuable  and  interesting  work." — From  the  Hon.  WM.  E.  GLADSTONE. 

"  I  have  examined  it  with  great  interest  and  great  gratification.  It  is  a  noble  work, 
and  does  enviable  credit  to  its  editors  z>nd  publishers." — From  the  Hon.  ROBERT  C. 
WINTHROP. 

"  I  have  carefully  examined  '  Appletons'  Cyclopaedia  of  American  Biography,'  and 
do  not  hesitate  to  commend  it  to  favor.  It  is  admirably  adapted  to  use  in  the  family 
and  the  schools,  and  is  so  cheap  as  to  come  within  the  reach  of  all  classes  of  readers 
and  students." — From  J.  B.  FORAKER,  ex-Governor  of  Ohio. 

"  This  book  of  American  biography  has  come  to  me  with  a  most  unusual  charm.  It 
sets  before  us  the  faces  of  great  Americans,  both  men  and  women,  and  gives  us  a  per- 
spective view  of  their  lives.  Where  so  many  noble  and  great  have  lived  and  wrought, 
one  is  encouraged  to  believe  the  soil  from  which  they  sprang,  the  air  they  breathed,  and 
the  sky  over  their  heads,  to  be  the  best  this  world  affords,  and  one  says,  '  Thank  God, 
I  also  am  an  American  ! '  We  have  many  books  of  biography,  but  I  have  seen  none 
so  ample,  so  clear-cut,  and  breathing  so  strongly  the  best  spirit  of  our  native  land.  No 
young  man  or  woman  can  fail  to  find  among  these  ample  pages  some  model  worthy  of 
imitation." — From  FRANCES  E.  WILLARD,  President  N.  W.  C.  T.  U. 

"I  congratulate  you  on  the  beauty  of  the  volume,  and  the  thoroughness  of  the 
ivork." — From  Bishop  PHILLIPS  BROOKS. 

"  Every  day's  use  of  this  admirable  work  confirms  me  in  regard  to  its  comprehen- 
siveness and  accuracy." — From  CHARLES  DUDLEY  WAUNER. 

Price,  per  volume,  (loth  or  buckram,  $5.00;  sheep,  $6.00;  half  calf  or  hilf mo- 
rocco, $7.00.  Sold  only  by  subscription.  Descriptive  circular,  with  specimen  pages , 
sent  on  application.  Agents  -wanted  for  districts  not  yet  assigned. 


New  York :  D.  APPLETON  &  CO..  72  Fifth  Avenue. 


D.   APPLETON  AND  COMPANY'S  PUBLICATIONS. 
THE  SUCCESSOR  TO   "LOOKING  BACKWARD." 

IPQUALITY.  'By  EDWARD  BELLAMY.    i2mo.    Cloth, 

^    $1.25. 

"  The  book  is  so  full  of  ideas,  so  replete  with  suggestive  aspects.,  so  rich 
in  quotable  parts,  as  to  form  an  arsenal  of  argument  for  apostles  of  the  new 
democracy.  .  .  .  The  humane  and  thoughtful  reader  will  lay  down  '  Equality  ' 
and  regard  the  world  about  him  with  a  feeling  akin  to  that  with  which  the 
child  of  the  tenement  returns  from  his  '  country  week '  to  the  foul  smells,  the 
discordant  noises,  the  incessant  strife  of  the  wonted  environment.  Immense 
changes  are  undoubtedly  in  store  for  the  coming  century.  The  industrial 
transformations  of  the  world  for  the  past  hundred  years  seem  to  assure  for 
the  next  hundred  a  mutation  in  social  conditions  commensurately  radical. 
The  tendency  is  undoubtedly  toward  human  unity,  social  solidarity.  Science 
will  more  and  more  make  social  evolution  a  voluntary,  self-directing  process 
on  the  part  of  man." — SYLVESTER  BAXTER,  in  the  Review  of  Reviews. 

"  '  Equality '  is  a  greater  book  than  '  Looking  Backward,'  while  it  is  more 
powerful ;  and  the  smoothness,  the  never-failing  interest,  the  limpid  clear- 
ness and  the  simplicity  of  the  argument,  and  the  timeliness,  will  make  it 
extremely  popular.  Here  is  a  book  that  every  one  will  read  and  enjoy. 
Rant  there  is  none,  but  the  present  system  is  subjected  to  a  searching  arraign- 
ment. Withal,  the  story  is  bright,  optimistic,  and  cheerful." — Boston  Herald. 

"  Mr.  Bellamy  has  bided  his  time — the  full  nine  years  of  Horace's  counsel. 
Calmly  and  quietly  he  has  rounded  out  the  vision  which  occurred  to  him.  .  .  . 
That  Mr.  Bellamy  is  earnest  and  honest  in  his  convictions  is  evident.  That 
hundreds  of  earnest  and  honest  men  hold  the  same  convictions  is  also  evident. 
Will  the  future  increase,  or  decrease,  the  number  ?  " — New  York  Herald. 

"  So  ample  was  Mr.  Bellamy's  material,  so  rich  is  his  imaginative  power, 
that  '  Looking  Backward '  scarcely  gave  him  room  to  turn  in.  ...  The 
bstterment  of  man  is  a  noble  topic,  and  the  purpose  of  Mr.  Bellamy's  '  Equal- 
ity '  is  to  approach  it  with  reverence.  The  book  will  raise  many  discussions. 
The  subject  which  Mr.  Bellamy  writes  about  is  inexhaustible,  and  it  has  never- 
failing  human  interest." — New  York  Times. 

"  '  Equality'  deserves  praise  for  its  completeness.  It  shows  the  thought 
and  work  of  years.  It  apparently  treats  of  every  phase  of  its  subject.  .  .  . 
Altogether  praiseworthy  and  very  remarkable." — Chicago  Tribune. 

"  There  is  no  question  at  all  about  the  power  of  the  author  both  as  the 
teller  of  a  marvelous  story  and  as  the  imaginative  creator  of  a  scheme  of 
earthly  human  happiness.  '  Equality  '  is  profoundly  interesting  in  a  great 
many  different  ways." — Boston  Daily  Advertiser. 

"  A  vastly  interesting  work,  and  those  who  feel  in  the  air  the  coming  of 
great  social,  industrial,  and  economical  changes,  whether  they  hope  for  or 
fear  them,  will  find  '  Equality '  the  most  absorbing  reading.  The  ready  sale 
of  the  first  installment  of  the  book  shows  how  real  and  general  the  concern 
in  these  questions  has  grown  to  be." — Springfield  Republican. 


D.  APPLETON  AND   COMPANY,  NEW  YORK. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


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